


A New Horizon

by Kakumei16



Series: The Cera Chronicles [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-04-05 19:50:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 37,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19047205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kakumei16/pseuds/Kakumei16
Summary: With the Blight over, Cera Amell heads to Vigil's Keep to take her place as Warden Commander and rebuild the Ferelden Wardens.  She meets some old friends and truly falls in love for the first time all while trying to figure out the new darkspawn angle.





	1. A New Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> And the story continues! I promise there's more moments in this one. Awakening could have been so much more than it was, so there was plenty form me to ponder. I also adore Anders and Nathaniel and they both play such a large role with all of my warden playthroughs in there very own special ways. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one more than Origins, (so very very rushed), and please leave feedback/constructive criticism on what I can improve upon. Thanks!

Denerim was finally starting to mend and Cera was officially being led across Ferelden to a land she wasn't familiar with.  Vigil's Keep was to be her home. Her guide, the warrior Mhairi, told her Orlesian Wardens had come down to help start rebuilding.  They were just waiting for Cera. The trip had been long and tiring. Mhairi was ever so chatty, which wasn't a terrible thing, but she just kept asking about the battle with the archdemon and the Blight and that was about it.  She talked about herself occasionally but not that much. By the time they reached the final stretch to Vigil's Keep, Cera was ready to strangle her guide just to get her to stop talking. It also started pouring rain. ' _ Figures _ ,' she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes.  One other thing to make her uncomfortable.

"It's just up a little further, Commander.  Everything should be prepared for you. They even left Rendon Howe's quarters just for you..." Mhairi kept talking.  Cera grimaced at the thought of staying the quarters of that crazy man. Rendon Howe had a pension for torture and was really the one they needed to rescue Anora from.  He was deranged and deserved every bit of killing Alistair dished him.

The Keep came into view amongst the gloom and poor weather.  An uneasiness slowly crept over Cera's being, both inside and out.  Something was wrong up ahead. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in a couple of weeks...not since the Blight.  The tingle started in the base of her spine, slowly working its way up to her neck. The feeling was far different than it was during the Blight.  It was meticulous. "Mhairi, quiet," she scolded. 

"What is it, Commander?"

"Help!" a cry echoed over the sound of the rain.  A man ran down the path toward them, two darkspawn hot on his heels.  Cera conjured some ice, throwing it at one of the genlocks, then sent lightning at the second.  The second darkspawn convulsed and soon the smell of burnt flesh was being washed away by the rain.  The man fell down at the feet of their horses. 

"What's wrong?" Mhairi asked while the Commander dismounted her horse to survey the area.  She didn't see anything else but, boy, did she feel it. 

"The Keep's been taken!  They appeared from...I don't know.  Nobody saw them coming," the man cried.

"The Wardens?"

"Dead or taken.  Barely any alive.  Please, help!"

"Run to the city of Amaranthine," Cera instructed, offering him her horse.  He accepted and took off after Cera removed her pack from it. Hoisting it on her shoulder, she lifted her staff and ran toward the Keep.  Mhairi took the cue and followed.

Just as the man had said, dead bodies littered the ground, most were human, some elves and dwarves.  There were few darkspawn corpses. That wasn't good. The main doors inside the keep were blocked by broken boulders and debris from the crumbling walls surrounding it.  "Is there another way in, Mhairi?"

"There's a passage way up there, through the holding cell," the warrior said, pointing to a place on the right.  They hurried up the stairs to the door. Cera threw it open, halting her step as a darkspawn burst into flame, wailed, and fell into silence in a heap on the floor.  A second toasted darkspawn corpse was near, as were two unmoving bloody templar bodies. Standing above them was a mage, male with short blonde hair tied back in a stubby ponytail.  The mage shook his hands, as if cooling them off, and then he looked at the women. 

"Uh...I didn't do it," he said and looked around.  "I know it looks bad but-" as he looked back at the women, his eyes locked on Cera and a smirk cracked on his lips.  "Hey! I know you! You're the mage that sucked terrible at her creation class!" How thoughtful of him to bring that up.

"Commander, stand back.  This is a wanted apostate.  He was being taken back to the Circle to pay for his crimes," Mhairi declared, lowering her stance, and readying her sword.

"Pay for my crimes?" the mage asked, his mouth agape.  Cera waved Mhairi off and walked around the recruit.

"Anders, right?" Cera inquired.  He nodded. "Are you still an impeccable healer?"  Another nod. "You're coming with us," Cera nodded for him to follow.

"Commander, are you sure-?"

"Mhairi, this is not a negotiation.  We'll need him so let's go," she snapped at the warrior.  Anders smirked and followed, skipping up to Cera and leaning down as they walked.

"You're looking remarkable, by the way.  Very seasoned," he purred, earning an annoyed glance from the Warden Commander.  

Not only was he talented in the school of creation, Anders seemed to favor the primal magics, as well.  Having him at her side made Cera feel more comfortable. Although she had only ever been around him those few times for her class and a little extra, he was still from the Circle and therefore a piece of home to her.  Mhairi's skills with her sword were impressive, as well. The three of them fought their way through the Keep. Unfortunately, the only living things they encountered were darkspawn. 

In the main hall of the Keep, Cera heard an even sweeter sound before she saw it.  Oghren raised his battleaxe over his head and brought it down, cleaving through the last darkspawn standing.  He laughed then, looking over at Cera, waved like a child would to its parent when they returned home. Blood was splattered all over his clothes and armor.  He didn't seem to care. Instead, he ran over toward them with a smile. It made the Commander smile in return. For a gross, smelly dwarf, she sure had missed him.

"A-ha!  There you are!  When these darkspawn showed up, I thought, 'just you wait until the new commander gets here and you'll be spitting teeth out of your arses!" Oghren laughed.  "Follow the screaming, and sure enough, here you are. Good on ya!"

"Oghren?  You're here?" Cera asked, unable to hide her relief and glee at seeing him.  He was small, he was smelly, and he was a sight for sore eyes.

"Doubting your eyes, huh?  I get like that, after the fifth bottle or so.  Came here thinking I might try my hand at becoming a bona fide Grey Warden," he announced.  That should have been happy news but Cera's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't the time to think about it, but what if they made it to the Joining and he died?  She would never forgive herself. 

"He was here when I left," Mhairi spoke up, her face twisted in disgust as Oghren neared even more.  "I can't believe the Wardens didn't kick him out."

"Hey!  If it isn't the recruit with the great rack!" Oghren hooted.

"Yes.  A prize for the Wardens, to be sure," the warrior woman sighed again.  

"I know, I know, too good to be true, right?  Hey... who's the mage? Boyfriend? Should I leave you two alone?"  Yes. He very much made Zevran seem quite the innocent...

"Wow.  A dwarf that smells like a brewery.  You never see that anywhere," Anders retorted.  

"Huh.  A mage comedian.  Thought those normally died young."

"It's good to see you again, Oghren," Cera finally spoke.  They had no time to bicker, yet the comments kept rolling, this time from Anders then Mhairi.

"I find that hard to believe."

"As do I."

"Both of you, stop," Cera scolded.  "We have to hurry."

"We should find the Seneschal, Commander," Mhairi said.  Cera agreed, though she wasn't sure who the Seneschal was.

"Let's go introduce some darkspawn arses to my foot.  Only polite thing to do," Oghren bellowed, raising his axe.  


	2. They Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Keep has been overtaken by talking darkspawn and the King makes a surprise visit.

Vigil's Keep was large with many wide, winding corridors that were littered with bodies.  It was a miracle that they even found one person alive. Mhairi seemed to know the man quite well.  She started crying and begged for help. Anders looked him over but the injured man was too far gone.  Before he passed, the man pointed them toward the roof. He said a talking darkspawn had taken the Seneschal up there.  Cera had never encountered a talking darkspawn. The fallen soldier had obviously been delusional. Still, they pressed on to the rooftop.  Back out into the rain.

Cera led the others around a tower, pausing at the sight before them.  A darkspawn approached a soldier. Naturally the soldier was backing up but he was too close to the edge.  "It has ended just as he foretold," the darkspawn hissed with a deep, raspy voice before he kicked the soldier off the roof.  "Be taking this one gently," the creature continued. It turned around, walking back to his fellow creature. A man was kneeling down, the one darkspawn holding a fistful of the man's hair and pressing a sword to his throat. "We are wishing no more dead than is necessary."

"Others will come, creature," the man spat.

"We're already here," Cera yelled across the rooftop.  

"It is talking!" Anders exclaimed.  

"Well, let's shut it up already," Oghren growled.  No orders needed to be given. The stout dwarf raised his axe and charged.

"Capture the Grey Warden.  The others, they may be killed," the talking darkspawn yelled to its own companions.  A few darkspawn came around from the corner, where Cera hadn't noticed them. 

Mhairi ran in after Oghren while Anders hung back, a crackling glow forming around his hands.  Cera thought of doing the same but wanted to help more. She looked down at the ground, arms extended out to her sides.  Her head fell back as she roared toward the sky and her whole body began glowing. The roar deepened into that of an animal and when the glow faded, where her feminine form once stood was now that of a bear.  She snarled and charged at the nearest darkspawn. 

Cera was the first to go in at the leader, raising up on her hind legs to swipe a large paw at its face.  Before it made contact, the darkspawn ran the sword through her side. Her paw raked across its face then she fell.  The bear's body released a light and shrunk back to her former self, robes and all. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a hand to her side.  Blood seeped out between her fingers. It hurt but not as much as the talking darkspawn probably felt. Its head bounced in front of her face and rolled off to the side.  Its body followed.

"Commander," Oghren knelt down beside her.  "Shit, I've seen you in worse condition, right?"

"Move, dwarf," Anders intervened.  He was beside her before she knew it, pushing her hands away.  "I didn't know you learned shape-shifting, Cera. That was rather impressive," the mage continued talking to her.  She felt his hands over her side and a tinge as her skin started to stitch back together. The woman winced. "Oh stop, you big baby.  You're the Hero of Ferelden, right?"

"No.  Not me.  One of our other companions," Cera hissed.  He removed his hands after what seemed like forever, leaving a dull throb and a puddle of blood near her side.  "Thanks, Anders,” she grimaced her appreciation, leaning on him just to get back to her feet. 

"That's what I'm here for, right?"  He stepped to move away but she tightened her grip.  

“I’ll fall over,” Cera whispered and Anders dutifully remained at her side.

"Commander?"  Cera looked up at the human that had been captive.  He was older with grey heavily peppering his hair. "I am Seneschal Varel and I am grateful for your timing."

"It's what we do, I guess," she smirked, not that she felt jovial at all.  "What happened here?"

"They just appeared.  That one," he pointed to the talking darkspawn, "brought me up here.  They took what Grey Wardens there were."

"Took them?  Why Since when do darkspawn  _ take  _ people?"

"I don't know," Varel responded.  A horn sounded off from below. Mhairi had been the one to look over the side.

"It's the king!" Mhairi exclaimed.  Cera swallowed hard.

"The king is here?  What's he doing here?" the female mage muttered.  It didn't matter. They had to receive him and off they went, back through the destroyed Vigil to receive the king and his entourage at the gate.  Cera and Anders brought up the rear. When they caught up to the pack, Cera patted her escorts arm, breathed deep, and walked to the front on her own.  Well, limp was more like it.

"Your majesty," Varel immediately said and bowed.  Mhairi followed and then Cera and Anders. She had to nudge Oghren to get him to move and he grumbled about it.  

"It looks like I missed a party," Alistair noted.  "What happened here?"

"Your majesty, we were attacked by darkspawn.  Many were killed and some Wardens had been taken," Varel filled him in once they were all standing once more.  Alistair looked over at Cera very briefly. 

"Taken?  Do they even do that?" the king asked.  

"I asked the same thing.  They also seem to be talking now, too, at least some of them," Cera spoke.  More confusion crossed their king's face. "It is something we'll be looking in to."

"Of course.  Please send reports to Saniel with any updates."

"Of course."  She was trying to be cordial with Alistair and it seemed he was doing the same.  However, there was still tension between them. He barely looked at her, even when he spoke to her.  

"We were going to welcome you to this location on our way back to Denerim but it seems that you have much work to do.  I trust the Seneschal will help guide you," Alistair said. What a brief visit. 

"Your majesty, that man is a wanted apostate," one of the troops behind Alistar stepped forward, pointing at Anders with such a hatred.  The woman wore the armor of a templar. "He was to be taken back to the Circle to face justice for his crimes."

"Justice?  Please, the amount of justice you people know would fit into a thimble," Anders spat back.

"He doesn't deny his crimes," the templar continued.

"You wouldn't believe me anyway," he retorted.  Cera felt for him. Some templars didn't care about the true story.  Some were locked in their own heads, like Cullen - forever hateful toward mages.

"Then he shall be taken back to the Circle, unless there is something you'd like to say, Commander?"  Cera looked at the king questioningly. Why would she want to say anything? It was the longest pointed look Alistair had given her.  Maybe that was why it took her a few to figure it out. 

"I do, my King.  With the Grey Wardens in their current state, we need all the help we can get.  I hereby conscript this mage into our ranks,” Cera stated.

"Your majesty-" the templar started but he held up his hand ever so gracefully.

"I believe the Warden Commander has spoken.  She has the right to conscript whomever she wishes.  It is out of my hands," he replied with a smirk reminiscent of their happier times traveling together.  "Now, I believe we should leave you to clean up and retain order. Let me know if we may be of assistance."

"Thank you, your majesty," Varel bowed to Alistair again and the royal entourage was gone, leaving their small group standing in the rain.  "We need all the Wardens we can. I will go order clean up and prepare the Joining immediately," Varel spoke and he retreated back inside. 

"The Joining, eh?  Bring it on. Where's that big cup?  I'll gargle and spit!" Oghren raised his axe in his air.  Just his antics made Cera feel a little better. She smiled.

"You don't spit, Oghren."

"Huh, that's how ya' play it, eh?  Good on you," he laughed. She shook her head.  

"You're so creepy," Anders noted.  They all began the walk back to the Keep, though Anders grabbed Cera’s wrist.  "Am I really going to be a Grey Warden? ...Wow..."

"I'm sorry for conscripting you, Anders."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because you have to do this.  I've learned through many a rumor that you don't like being locked up places, though being a Grey Warden isn't really being locked up but you'll still need to be around.  You can't just go off on your own all the time, especially when darkspawn are still a threat."

"But it's not the Circle."  He was being rather positive.  

"True, but-"  Cera wanted to tell him that there was only a fifty percent chance that he'd live, but she couldn't do it.  "Just don't think this was an excuse to keep you around because you're pretty," she said instead and bumped him with her hip.  The slight sideways movement pulled at her side, still tender from the skewing. 

"Oh, right.  Of course not.  It's just because you suck at healing," he jested back.  It made her chuckle and the banter continued all the way back inside the Keep.


	3. Joining From The Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first three recruits go through The Joining

"Join us brothers and sisters..."  The Seneschal spoke that same speech Alistair had.  He also held the cup. The Commander was just a bystander.   

Cera looked at the recruits standing before her.  There were only three of them, but that was enough for her to see the Joining from the other side for the first time.  Mhairi stood tall, her head held high just as a warrior should. Oghren was the same, raring to go. Anders; however, looked rather twitchy, which was different than Cera ever remembered him being.  Seeing them reminded her of her own Joining. How many would live this time? Cera wanted to crawl in a hole and close her eyes until it was over. She couldn't bear to see any of them die, Oghren especially.  Despite his disgusting habits and profane language, he had become a dear friend to her through the Blight. If he didn’t make it, she didn’t know what she would do.

Veral stepped toward Oghren and handed him the cup.  "From this moment forth, Oghren, you are a Grey Warden."

The dwarf took the cup and frowned, his bushy red eyebrows furrowing together.  "What's this? The sampler size? Are you trying to say something about my height?" he asked, glaring up at Varel.

"Wha-?  This is the goblet we've always used," Varel stuttered in response.  Cera would have smirked if she hadn't been so nervous.

"Really?  Huh." Oghren shrugged then drank the blood and passed the cup back to Varel.  Within a few seconds, his eyes turned white, just as Cera remembered Daveth's had before he died.  She held her breath. Oghren belched and smacked his lips. "Hm...not bad," he grunted then fell back to the floor.  Varel knelt beside the dwarf, checked his pulse, and looked back at Cera.

"He lives.  Maker help us all," the Seneschal mumbled and stood once more.  Cera released the breath she had been holding. Varel stepped to Anders next and held the cup just the same as he did for Anders.  "From this moment forth, Anders, you are a Grey Warden."

The blond mage took the cup and stared down at its contents, his nose scrunched in displeasure, but Cera thought it was adorable.  "So we need to drink darkspawn blood? That is it?"

"That is it," Varel confirmed.

"All right.   But if I wake up two weeks from now on a ship bound for Rivain in nothing but my small clothes and a tattoo on my forehead, I'm blaming you," the mage responded, looking pointedly over at Cera.  Anders lifted the cup to his lips and drank, handed it back to Varel, and they waited again. In a few moments, Anders eyes whited out, he swayed, and fainted. Varel knelt down to check Anders, as well, and nodded.  

“Thank the Maker,” Cera praised under her breath.  Just one more recruit to go.

"He lives, Commander, and will awaken in time."  Once again Varel brought the chalice to the remaining recruit and held it out for her to take.  "From this moment forth, Mhairi, you are a Grey Warden."

"I have awaited this moment," she smiled and took the cup.  She drank and handed the cup back. Unlike Anders and Oghren, Mhairi's body immediately spasmed.  Cera flashed back to seeing Daveth writhing in pain, falling forward... Mhairi coughed, clutching at her throat, and then she went limp on the floor.  Cera's shoulders dropped and Varel stayed where he was. Neither needed confirmation that her spirit was no longer in their world.

"I am sorry, Mhairi.  May the Maker watch over you," Varel bowed his head and began cleaning up the chalice and vials of darkspawn blood that had been gathered.  Cera walked over to the large fire pit that acted as the focal point in the room, and sat down on the wide flat stone ledge. Some soldiers retrieved Mhairi's body and took it away, probably to wherever the other bodies from the attack had been taken to.  That left Anders and Oghren laying on the floor. She could have sworn that Oghren was even snoring a little and she snickered.

"That was a successful Joining," Varel sat down beside once he finished his task.

Cera looked over at the Seneschal.  The Keep was calm for the first time since she arrived and was only just able to think about the man and his knowledge.  "You're not a Grey Warden, Varel, right?"

"Correct."

"Then how do you know how to do the Joining ritual?  And how did you become Seneschal?" she asked him, looking over at the older man.  

"I've assisted the Grey Wardens for many years.  I've been here in Amaranthine as Captain of the guard.  While Rendon Howe was the Arl; I had been promoted briefly.  Our many disagreements left me demoted again. He was a cruel man."

"He was quite the bastard," she shook her head.  

Varel chuckled.  "Very much so. After his demise, when the Grey Wardens claimed Vigil's Keep, they reinstated me," he finished explaining.  It answered enough questions for the Commander for the time being.

"Thank you.  For being here and helping.  I don't know the first thing about...any of this, really.  We weren't supposed to know about politics or running places...or any of that.  I'm just a mage."

"You are the Grey Warden Commander."

"I don't feel like I deserve that title.  The one who deserves it staying in Denerim."

"The King?"

"No, Saniel, the one who killed the archdemon.  She stayed in Denerim to round up and train recruits.  I guess she'll bring them over when she has enough...or something."

"Commander,” Varel began, placing a hand on her shoulder, “take some deep breaths.  I will help you. For tonight, rest. We will begin clean up on the Keep and re-establish security.  I believe you'll need to speak with those two when they wake," he said, nodding at the two men on the floor.  "I'll have someone show you to your rooms this evening."

Cera nodded in response, looking back at the sleeping beauties.  The Seneschal excused himself. The and silence invaded the space save for the crackling of the fire and Oghren's snores.  

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she finally heard a groan.  By that point, the female mage had laid down on the ledge of the fire pit and was just watching the flames dance.  

"Oh, Maker...am I dead?" she heard Ander's ask.  Cera rolled her head over to the side to look at him.  He was sitting up, clutching his head.

"No, not dead.  Just a Grey Warden.  Congratulations," she replied and pushed herself up to sit.  "How are you feeling?"

"In pain.  Lots of pain....and really hungry," he groaned.  Anders clamored to his feet, shuffled over to the fire pit, and sat down beside Cera.  He slumped over his knees, head hanging between.

"Did you have any dreams?"

"Dreams?  ...No. Not that I recall, at least.  Should I have?"

"I don't know.  I did. Alist- The King said everything's worse when one joins during the Blight.  I guess I got the short end of that stick." She shrugged. "I'll explain further when Oghren wakes up."

"Where's the good looking warrior?" Anders smirked up at Cera and nudged her with his pointy elbow.  The answer must have read plainly on her face with the way that smirk disappeared.

"She didn't make it,” Cera softly relayed.

"Didn't...make it?  You mean..."

"Not everyone survives the Joining."

"You mean I could have died?" he snapped, jerking his body upright, clearly ignoring whatever discomfort he was feeling from the ritual.  "And you didn't say anything?"

Cera gaped at the man.  "We're not supposed to. If everyone knew, nobody would join."

"Well, I certainly didn't volunteer," he sneered.  Cera shook her head and looked away.

"Neither did I.  Unlike you, I was happy in the Circle, Anders.  Due to certain events, in which I was helping Irving, Gregoir tried to have me thrown in the dungeons.  The former Grey Warden Commander Duncan conscripted me. I didn't want to leave but I had to," Cera said, not sure if she was trying to make Anders feel better or herself since she was the one who conscripted him.  "Duncan said I was too talented to waste away in a dungeon. I get that now. I feel the same about you."

Her fellow mage didn't respond for some time.  In fact, he didn't respond at all. He simply stood up and walked away.  Cera watched the mage disappear through one of the large arched doorways.  Now that things were calm, she hated what she was feeling. Maybe in the Circle she was a leader and, sure, she was opinionated during the Blight, but she had her friends with her.  Would Oghren hate her when he woke up, too? She sighed and laid back down on the fire pit ledge. Her first day as Commander sucked.


	4. Howe About Them Grey Wardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another joins the Grey Wardens.

Early the next morning, Cera woke to a knock on her door.  It took a moment for her brain to register the noise as something real and not in her disturbed dreams of hiding from darkspawn hordes.  Her brain slowly awakened and she felt the plush mattress beneath her. Oh, right. She was at Vigil’s Keep. Darkspawn weren’t attacking right then.  She had been put in Rendon Howe's quarters, which was a bit disturbing since the previous owner was less than savory, yet she had been too tired to fight the night before.  The mage needed to plan on speaking with Varel about being moved to another room. Any other room would do.

The knocking persisted followed by a hefty, "Commander!".  The voice wasn't one she recognized but it sounded pretty urgent.  

"What?" she barked back.  Cera was not a morning person before the Blight, during the Blight, and most certainly not after the Blight.  

"The Seneschal wishes to see you immediately," the man yelled back through the thick door.   

The woman rubbed her hands over her face then threw back the cover, and got out of bed.  As she walked over to the armoire, she spotted a package sitting on the chair by the fire.  It had been on the bed when she was brought to her room the prior night. It had been a gift from the King of Ferelden.  He probably gave it to someone when she wasn’t looking. To be honest, she had been surprised by the present and thought just maybe Alistair had forgiven her, if only a little bit.  

The gift was a new uniform to use instead of her Warden robes.  The uniform was a black cloth tunic, black leggings, knee high black boots, and bracers to go with it.  The Grey Warden emblem was embroidered on the center of the chest in silver thread. She put on her new uniform, stretching this way and that.  The material was flexible so as to not hinder her movements in any way and there were no robes to get caught around her ankles if she needed to run for any reason.  It was a very similar style to the blue and white Warden uniform, but it was all her own. Cera smiled at the thought of Alistair having something like that crafted for her. 

As she walked through the halls searching for the throne room, Cera ran her fingers through her raven locks.  Her hair had grown past her shoulders and seemed to be knottier than ever, not something her fingers could easily fix but it was worth a try since she couldn’t find a brush in her chambers.

Finally she found the throne room where Varel was standing with two others.  She walked right up to him, bowing her head...though she didn't know why. "Please, Commander, there is no need for that.  Before we get to the matter at hand, I would like to introduce you to Mistress Woolsey, a treasurer sent by the First Warden of Weishaupt to assist with the finances.  And this is Captain Garavel." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you both and I thank you for your assistance," Cera replied courteously, if not a little stuffy.  "What is the matter at hand, Varel? I was told it was urgent for me to see you."

"A thief was arrested in the night and taken to the prison.  He was caught poking about the Keep and it took five men to bring him down,” he began to explain.  Maybe that was the rapping she thought was in her dreams.... “Go speak with him and let me know what fate you choose for him," Varel said.  

"Okay.  I will do so,” Cera said, trying to sound more official than she felt.  Was it really her job to check in on prisoners? And why would she have to decide what to do with him?  Was that really under her job description as Warden Commander? Oh...the prisoner could be a Grey Warden recruit.  “That would make sense,” she mumbled to herself, stepping through the Keep’s doors once the guards opened them for her.

It was raining outside.  Again. The sky was full of dark, dreary clouds, puddles of mud flooded the paths, yet there were still workers trying to put things back in order and clean up the rubble.  One had to admire their hard work. It took some asking around before she was properly directed to the prison. It was a smaller building separate from the Keep, which didn't quite make sense to her.  Why keep prisoners that far away where they could escape unnoticed? She thanked the soldier that helped her and entered the prison. The guard waiting there left when she told him, too.

The prisoner, while wearing rags, was in decent shape.  His long charcoal colored hair was hanging around his shoulders, the color matching the patch of hair on his chin.  He looked up at her with muddy green eyes. The prisoner looked pissed, but maybe that was just his face. Cera approached the cell and watched as the prisoner scurried to his feet.  She kept herself just out of arm's length, as did he. Interesting. 

"If it isn't the great Hero, conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil," the prisoner sneered with a deep, raspy voice that didn’t match his face at all.  The man’s loathing toward her was palatable. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall? With lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes?"

"Lightning bolts?  I see my reputation precedes me," Cera replied, though there was a hesitation in her that she couldn't shake.  While she could be cocky at times, the whole situation at Vigil’s Keep had thrown her off.

"It does.  I know you best as the one who  _ murdered _ my father," he spat, stepping forward and wrapping his long, lean fingers around the bars of the cell.  

"Murdered your...?" She cocked her head to the side.

"I am Nathaniel Howe.  My family owned these lands until you showed up.  Do you even remember my father?"

Cera blinked at the prisoner.  "Ah, so you're Rendon Howe's son.  Now it makes sense," she noted, crossing her arms in front of her.  Since Varel once served the deceased Howe, he probably recognized Nathaniel.  That was why he wasn't killed outright, or so she believed.

"My father served the Hero of River Dane and fought against the Orlesians!  Yet our family lost everything!" Nathaniel continued to growl at her, the tone of his voice making his words harsher.  "I came here..." he paused. His shoulders dropped and his grip relaxed. "I thought I was going to try to kill you. To lay a trap for you.  But then I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I have left."

There were a lot of things that struck her from what he said and how he moved, or slumped was more like it.  "You were going to kill me?" Cera asked. She hadn't even been the one to kill his father, yet she was taking the blame?  Or was his information that flawed?

"That was the plan,” Nathaniel confirmed.  “Look, I know you're a hero. You fought a war and you won, and to the victor go the spoils, right?  Whatever my father did, however, shouldn't harm my whole family. The Howes are pariahs now, those of us left.  It's all thanks to you." His sneer returned. "And now you get to decide my fate. Ironic, isn't it?"

"If only you knew the half of it," Cera muttered under her breath.  There was no point in trying to convince him that she wasn't the Hero and she hadn't killed his father.  He seemed rather set in his beliefs. "What would you do if I let you go?"

"Let me go?"  He chuckled and stepped back away from the cell door.  "I couldn't promise I wouldn't return." She thought as much.  

"I heard we had trouble catching you last night?"

"I am not without skills.  My time abroad wasn't spent chasing skirts and drinking wine."  Cera looked at him for another moment then walked to the prison house door.  She opened it, requesting the guard to fetch the Seneschal. "You've decided my fate, have you?  Good. I'm sick of waiting," the prisoner goaded. 

Cera turned back to face Nathaniel, taking slow steps toward the cell, purposely swaying her hips back and forth, not that he was watching much.  He kept his eyes on her face. Interesting man, though his attitude had officially gotten on her nerves. The mage stopped right against the cell doors and trailed one finger down the bar.

"You think rather highly of your father...Nathaniel was it?  I wonder if you enjoy having your bed overlooking a torture chamber, too.  I mean, whatever gets you off, right?" she said, recalling that little detail of their time in Fort Drakon.  He growled and stepped toward her. As soon as his hand touch the bars, she sent a jolt of electricity to him.  He cursed and pulled his hand back, shaking it. "Not from my eyes, but close enough, right?" She smirked and stepped away just as the Seneschal entered.

"Commander, I'm glad to hear you've made your decision," Varel announced, coming to stand beside her.

"I have.  I want to invoke the Right of Conscription on our prisoner."

"You what!?" Nathaniel hissed like she had slapped him.  

"I'm sorry, Commander...the Right of Conscription?  On the prisoner?"

"He said so himself that he is not without skills,” she stated.  Plus, seeing the look on Nathaniel’s face was well worth it. 

"No!  Absolutely not!  Hang me, first!" Nathaniel argued.  However tempting that might have been, Varel had pointed out the previous night how low the Grey Warden numbers were.  Including Anders and Oghren, there were only five in all of Ferelden. "Or do you like the thought of having a Grey Warden who wants you dead?"

"I'm sorry, did I say I was giving you a choice?" Cera snapped back at him.  "Wouldn't you rather try to change the world's opinion of the Howe family? Or would you rather prove them right that you're all sadistic-" she stopped herself from continuing the insult.  "Besides, there's a fifty percent chance you'll die anyway."

"As you wish, Commander.  Follow me, ser, and I wouldn't try anything," Varel warned him and led the small procession back to the Keep.  Cera stayed in the back, ready just in case Nathaniel tried anything. He didn't, much to her surprise.

The throne room was mostly empty.  Varel went to fetch the chalice for the Joining.  Cera hadn't thought they were going to do it so soon, but they had quite the supply of darkspawn blood on hand.  He soon returned and handed the cup to Nathaniel without the fancy speech and vote of confidence. Cera wasn't sure how she felt about it or how she felt about Nathaniel.  Zevran had tried to kill her and her companions and instead turned out to be a great ally. Nathaniel wasn't as jovial, though.

Cera stepped forward to Nathaniel and placed her hands on his to stop him from drinking.  “Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn.  And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you. From this moment on, Nathaniel, you’re a Grey Warden,” Cera said and removed her hands.

"The moment of truth..." Nathaniel took a deep breath as he looked down at the cups' contents.  He drank from it without further hesitation or snarky quips. He just did it. Cera took the cup and stepped back.  Nathaniel didn't convulse or choke. He just collapsed. Varel confirmed his state by checking his pulse and looked back at Cera.

"The Howe is stronger than I expected, for better or for worse.  He will live and wake shortly."

"I don't know how I feel about him yet, but let's try not to make him feel like a wanted criminal, okay?" Cera requested, handing the chalice off to Varel before taking a seat back on the fire pit’s ledge.  That was her Joining seat, or so she decided. Her hair was still wet from the rain, even though the journey had been short between the prison house and the Keep, so the fire should dry it and her by the time Nathaniel woke up.

"Commander, while I do appreciate your virtue, are you sure that's the right thing to do?  He admitted to wanting you dead."

"And when he wakes I will tell him that he has me mistaken for someone else.  I also know how it feels to be looked down on for something that you had no control over,” the Commander sighed.  “He didn't do damage here. His twisted father did. He shouldn't have to suffer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get this up at a steady pace. Clearly, this one has my interest and even reading back what I wrote, yes there are changes to make and mistakes to correct, but I can tell I enjoyed writing this when I did. I may even add more chapters into what I already have... Dun dun duuuuuuuuun.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been reading, subscribing, giving kudos, and all those good things. Comments would be lovely, too. I'm always open to feedback!


	5. Saniel: Moving On In Denerim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How is the Hero of Ferelden doing since the Blight ended?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching over to Saniel in Denerim. It's just one chapter for now and any future I will note in the chapter title, like I did with this one. It could only be a matter of time until she joins the others in Vigil's Keep, right?

"Come on!  I've seen trees put up a better fight than you!" Saniel yelled across the training grounds to the two recruits dueling.  Each recruit had on light armor and each were wielding wooden weapons, not that they would hurt each other with actual steel at the rate they were failing.  They were slow moving and whining at each other. Pathetic.

"Tsk tsk, my dear warden.  Be nice to the young pups."  The elf looked down at Zevran from where she was perched atop the fence surrounding the trailing grounds.  She rolled her eyes, watching Zevran lean over the fence beside her then she looked back out to watch the disaster that was happening.

"Out of all people, I figured you would understand most, Zevran.  They want to be Grey Wardens. They volunteered, yet darkspawn would kill them before they could blink.  There is no room for coddling among our ranks."

"Surely you were given a little leniency in your clan?"

"Like you were in the Crows?" she asked, looking back down at him.  He smirked and wagged his finger at her.

"You got me there, my dear.  You never told me much about your upbringing, though..." he trailed off with that devilish smirk he wore so well.

"And it is none of your business, elf or not," she said then hopped down from the fence and walked over to the two young recruits.  They were bent over at the waist, panting with their hands on their knees. "Recruits, do you really believe a darkspawn would let you rest?"

"B-but, Captain, we've been going at it for hours," one of them said.  She shook her head.

"The Blight went on for much longer than that.  The final battle spanned for many hours. Do you think we were able to rest because we were tired while in the middle of Denerim?  Or on the roof of Fort Drakon with the archdemon?" Saniel questioned. They at least had the decency to look ashamed. For whatever reason she looked back at Zevran, who was laughing at her.  The female elf sighed. "You're done for today. We will start again tomorrow at dawn."

"Thank you," they said in unison and dragged their feet back to the barracks.  She went around dismissing the rest of the recruits, as well. Most seemed rather happy to be heading back in.  Some looked disappointed and went on to run. Those ones she liked. 

A stick brushed along Saniel's neck, moving her long ponytail back over her shoulder.  She looked back at Zevran. "You've been sitting on the fence all day. While I know your skills with a bow remain sharp as ever, how am I to leave without knowing if your skills with a blade have become rusty?" he asked, holding out a stick to her.  She took it and prepared herself. 

They dueled.  While Saniel could fight with a blade, she didn't have the same level skill as Zevran and she never would.  Her preference was always range, not being in the middle of the fray. Zev parried her sword aside and brought his elbow against her stomach, knocking her back.  He dropped, sweeping his leg around to take her legs out from under her. The ground pushed the air from her lungs with an  _ oof _ ..  Zevran had the stick pointed at her neck and a cocky smile on his lips.  She looked around to see some of the recruits watching. She could not be seen as weak and would not let the Crow beat her.  Saniel snarled.

The Crow began moving back, thinking he had won, which was just the opportunity she needed.  With a flat palm, she reached over and pushed his weapon away then hooked her foot around his ankle and pulled.  While Zev caught his footing, Saniel rolled back onto her feet, keeping low, and charged at him. He laughed jovially that the game was still on and they continued.  She kept pressing, wanting him to stay on the defensive. Whether she had worn him down enough to cause him to slip or he knew she did not want to be seen as weak by being defeated, he fell back down to the ground.  She crouched down over him, her weapon to his neck. 

"Marvelous, my dear Warden,” he beamed.

"Did you let me win?" Saniel hissed.

"Why would I do that?" he smirked.  

“Damn it,” she growled, climbing off of him and tossing the stick aside.  The recruits were chatting and watching, but she didn't acknowledge them. Zevran took it easy on her; she hated that.

By evening, Saniel was bathed and relaxing outside on her balcony with Zevran.  Alistair had been very generous, giving her a room with a small balcony attached.  He knew how much she enjoyed being outdoors. The Dalish elf had her wet, waist length, auburn hair hanging over her shoulder while she brushed it.  While it felt too long to manage at times, she could not imagine cutting it. Tamlen had loved her hair. 

Tamlen's acorn pendant still rest against her collar, the necklace never once being removed since it was placed around her neck. Once in a while she would feel an odd shift in the air or a light brush against her cheek that she believed to have been Tamlen’s spirit.  Those moments she kept to herself and savored them.

As for Zevran being there in her space, she enjoyed his company.  Despite declaring he would leave shortly after Cera had, the Crow had stayed.  The male elf's new excuse was that he had to make sure she was training the recruits properly.  The time with him had been surprisingly welcome. He had wedged his way into Saniel's walls and had become a dear friend to her.

"Are you sure you don't wish to tell me about your upbringing?  Your clan? You seemed extra agitated today out there," Zevran said to the Dalish.  She rolled her emerald eyes and continued brushing her hair.

"What do you wish to know?  I may or may not be inclined to share."

"Well, your comment earlier about leniency for starters.  The Crows tortured us from a young age in order to harden us.  Surely the Dalish are not so careless and cruel."

"No, they are not, but we were not coddled, either.  As a child, we begin learning our skills. They find our strength and hone it to fit into the clan’s dynamic," Saniel explained.  She set the brush down on the stone balcony beside her and began braiding her long damp locks. "When we come of age, we undergo the  _ vallaslin _ ,” she paused, noticing Zevran’s raised eyebrow, “Blood writing.  It is a ritual of my people when one becomes an adult. It separates us from the  _ shemlen _ and those that throw their lot in with them."

"Blood writing?  Sounds..." Zevran searched for the correct word.  He couldn't find one and it made Saniel smirk. "So, is that what your tattoo is called?" he asked, gesturing to the faint purple designs on her forehead.

"Yes.  When the Keeper believes one is ready to enter adulthood, the Keeper performs the  _ vallaslin _ .  If you make even so much as one little peep of pain, you are considered weak.  Our Keeper would stop immediately and dismiss you until she felt you were ready to try again.”

"And you only needed to do this once, am I correct?"

"Yes,” the woman smiled wide.  “Tamlen and I both only needed on sitting.  Merrill, the Keeper's second, she had been dismissed once. Merrill is more magically inclined, though.  She would never be a hunter," Saniel finished. She wove the last few inches of her hair and tossed the braid back over her shoulder without securing the end..  

Her fingers ghosted over the acorn pendant around her neck, a habit she noticed she developed whenever Tamlen’s name left her lips.  The gesture was not lost on Zevran who scooted closer to her and moved around so he was seated facing her. 

"It has been a long time, yet you still cling to him," he said softly, reaching out to touch the pendant himself.  "I understand loss, my dear Warden, but life is so full. There are many opportunities around you."

"I know he is gone and even if he were here..." she shook her head of that thought.  "I'm afraid to let go," the female elf admitted. "I'm afraid that I won't ever find anyone I care about as much as him.  You've been the closest."

"Me?" Zevran chuckled.  "My dear, I am beyond flattered that I could melt a part of your heart.  You are young and you are on borrowed time, yes? You might as well make the most of it.  What have you got to lose, no?"

"Have you ever loved?" she asked him.  His amber eyes flashed with hurt for a brief moment and then it was gone.

"The past is the past," he replied.  That didn't mean much to her, but she didn't press him on the subject.  The hurt in his amber eyes was clear as any word he could speak on the subject.  If her hunch was correct, he had loved and he understood what she felt.

Zevran reached up from the pendant to cup the back of Saniel's neck and pulled her forward.  Her eyes widened at his actions. He kissed her. Her initial instinct was to pull away from him and she did try, but a large gust of wind knocked her back into him.  Her eyes drifted shut and in her mind she saw her Tamlen smiling at her with that predatory gleam. Thinking of him made her enjoy the kiss and everything that followed.

The next morning, Saniel curled up under the blankets in bed, clutching her pillow.  She did not want to wake up. She was sore without having moved and feared her body’s protest when she got to her feet; however, she was content, wearing only the acorn pendant under those blankets.  The elven woman rolled over to face the other side of the bed, opening her eyes to a piece of paper lying on the pillow beside her instead of Zevran’s head. Propping herself up on her arm, she grabbed the letter to read Zevran was gone.


	6. A Brief Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little fluffy chapter, get the gang acquainted a little bit.

An office had been cleaned up and made ready for Cera.  It was officially the Commander's office, which just sounded odd to her.  What did she possibly need an office for? Perhaps writing correspondences, but there was a small space in her sleeping quarters that she could that in.  The only other purpose she saw was so she could privately chat with her fellow Wardens - all three of them. Once Nathaniel awoke, she rounded up Anders and Oghren and took them there.  The Commander sat behind the large oak desk while the three men each sat in a chair. Nathaniel looked displeased but kept to himself. The other two, though...

"What?" Oghren barked at Anders.  The mage looked startled.

"What, what?"

"You were staring at me, you man-skirt-wearing freak."

"Oh, I thought you were being attacked by a wild animal, but it was only your beard," Anders mused with a mocking smirk.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?  Sparkle-fingers!" Oghren bellowed, gripping the arms of the chair to stand up.  Cera slapped both of her hands on the desk.

"Enough!"  That shut them up.  Oghren stayed seated and released his hands.  Anders just sat back, cleared his throat, and lost the smirk.  "It has been one day, gentlemen. One. Day. There is enough happening right now without you bickering and comparing testosterone levels, okay?"  The female mage stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning back against it. "Now, I asked you to come here so I may explain some of the changes that come with the Joining."

"Other than the dreadful after taste?" Anders asked.  She narrowed her eyes at his question. 

"You might have already noticed an increase in appetite.  You will also have some nightmares, though I'm not sure how it may affect you.  Because you now have the taint within you, you will be able to sense darkspawn. Likewise, they will be able to sense you.  Be aware because you may be the only defense to the guards and townsfolk in Amaranthine. They say everything is amplified when you join during a Blight, so I got all the perks there, so what I might have experienced will be different for you.  I cannot say for sure. It might not seem that bad, just little things to you, but there is one important change," she paused and looked at the faces. Oghren seemed unconcerned, Nathaniel stoic, and Anders on edge. "You only have about thirty years to live, give or take.  The corruption will slowly eat away at you."

"So, wait...  You live through the Joining but it eventually kills you anyway?  What a terrible trade off..." Anders mused, his brow scrunching. Nathaniel scoffed.  

"If you're a good warrior, you won't last that long anyway," Oghren stated.

"Or that means you're terrible at your job."

"Mage..." the dwarf growled.  Cera reached out a booted foot and lightly kicked Anders' shin.  He looked utterly shocked.

"Also, I'd like to introduce our newest member.  This is Nathaniel Howe. He's here to release the Howe name of all ills his father committed," the Commander explained.  The dwarf turned right to face Nathaniel.

"You're Rendon Howe's little blighter," Oghren stated.  Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

"That's one way of putting it, I suppose," Howe confirmed.

"They talked about you in the army.  You've certainly got stones, coming back here after your family was disgraced. I respect that."

"You do?"

"Yeah.  Throw caution to the wind, run headlong into danger, and sod the consequences -- that's the only way to live."

"Thanks... I think."

"Yep. Don't you give a piss what the others think. Oghren's got your back," Oghren finished, thumping his chest with his fist for good measure.  That left the others a bit of a loss, though Cera smiled. Maybe they could all get along, just maybe.

"So...you're a Howe?" Anders then asked.

"Do you have a point, Mage?"

"Hey, I'm fond of the Howes!  I'm also fond of the Whys, the Whos, and the Whats."

"How clever," Nathaniel replied drolly.  He didn't seem amused in the least bit and even Cera had to groan at how awful it was.

"It's shameful how long it took me to come up with that," the mage laughed at his own silly joke.

"Okay, enough.  Please," the Commander tried to regain some control.  "If you have any questions pertaining to the Joining or any side effects, please come see me.  If not, I would like to speak with Nathaniel alone." Two of the Wardens left, leaving Cera with their newest Warden.  Nathaniel stayed in his seat and looked at her. She remained perched on the edge of the desk. "Congratulations on surviving the Joining, Nathaniel."

"It doesn't feel like much of a celebration."

"Perhaps," she shrugged.  "Look, I wanted to speak with you about our conversation before.  Despite what you may think, I was not the one who killed your father."

"I was told it was a mage-"

"I was there but I did not kill him.  I promise you that." He didn't seem too convinced about that.  "I also want you to have your father's quarters. His rooms will belong to you and any heirlooms you may want, you may have to a point.  All must be approved by me."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because my staying there feels weird.  I'm not comfortable. Do not mistake my kindness for trust, though.  You have openly threatened me and I will be keeping an eye on you," she warned him.  He nodded. "And I know how it feels to be blamed for something you didn't do."

"My father-"

"It has nothing to do with your father.  I'm a mage by birth and now that I'm not locked away in a tower, I'm considered a threat by many people.  They fear me, even when I've defended them. I don't know if that will ever change for me, but I believe you can make a difference for yourself.  Do so. Prove us all wrong, that it was only your father," Cera finished. She watched Nathaniel as he nodded and stayed silent. "If we're in agreement, you are dismissed."


	7. A Little Drunk Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No Joining, no meeting... What are a few Wardens to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeey. I know it's been a while. Honestly, July won't be much better. I'm booked pretty much the whole month, but I'll do my best not to leave y'all hanging for too long. This is also a fluffy chapter. Gotta have a few of those amidst the dire situations those Wardens tend to find themselves in, right? Right.

There was no rest in the life of the Warden Commander.  Shortly after their meeting, Varel had summoned Cera away to the throne room to discuss things, such as the treasury, city defenses, and being the Arlessa of Amaranthine.  That was a position of power, one that she felt she couldn't have and yet it was thrust upon her. That meant that not only was she to command the Ferelden Grey Wardens and rebuild the order but she was to rule over Amaranthine.  A mage. Even she could foresee the trouble with that. An argument ensued, (which she lost), and then Varel determined that there was to be a party the following night to introduce her to the nobles and so she could address any issues the nobles may have.  Of course there would be problems.

And so Cera disappeared to one of the halls that night to sit with her fellow Grey Wardens.  By the time she had arrived, Oghren was four pints of ale in, Anders was three, and Nathaniel was still nursing his first.  Cera happily took two just so she didn't have to get up again. She put the pint to her lips and poured a fair amount of the golden liquid down her throat.  When she set it back on the table, cards had been placed down in front of her.  

"Diamondback, eh?  All right then, fellas.  Get out your purses," she teased, pulling her coin purse up from her belt.  

"There's the Warden I remember from the Blight," Oghren chuckled, slapping down some coin of his own.  Anders did, as well, now that he had his first Grey Warden pay. Nathaniel, however, hesitated. "C'mon, Howe.  Live a little."

"I'm not familiar with the rules," Nathaniel replied, earning himself three incredulous stares back at him.

"It's simple.  We take your money.  And by 'we', I mean myself.  So put it up here," Cera said, tapping the table.  "We'll explain the rules and you'll get it in no time."

"If you don't want to play for coin, we could also play for skin..." Anders suggested with a wink at Cera.  He then thought better of it when his eyes flashed to Oghren. "Or drinks. Clothes should stay on. Wouldn't want to go blind from the hairy dwarf."

"Hey, the ladies love it where I come from!"

"Just...here..." Nathaniel said, placing some coin on the table top.  They explained to him the rules and began playing. As they played, drinks went down easier, and lips became looser.  Cera and Oghren traded many tales from the Blight and the game slowly died to just friendly banter, the cards forgotten.

"Alistair chased that mabari around the whole camp trying to get his pack back just for the cheese!" Cera rolled in laughter at the memory.  "It was one of the most amusing things I had ever seen in my life and the Circle got pretty crazy at times."

"Like when Brody tried to mix that poultice.  Blue gook everywhere! Wynne's hair was tinted for days!" Anders exclaimed.  While they had been a few years apart, Cera remembered hearing that story well.  All of the apprentices went to see the mess. Wynne was covered head to toe in blue and still she kept calm.  

"That woman is like a statue."

"Eh, I'd take her for a go," Oghren said, murdering the laughter immediately, the mages gawking at the dwarf who then belched and chugged down the rest of his ale.  

"The imagery of that will forever torment my dreams," Anders frowned.  Cera looked over at him and covered her mouth to stifle her resurfacing giggles.  It didn't last long. There was too much ale flowing through her system at that point that the noise burst from her to fill the mess hall.  

More stories were shared and, before long, Oghren was  passed out in his chair snoring and cuddling an empty mug.

"I think I shall turn in for the night," Nathaniel announced with a yawn, taking what little coin he had remaining, and retreated from the mess hall.  Cera could only wave through the laughter.

"Perhaps that's not a terrible idea.  That guard keeps glaring at us," Anders pointed toward the entrance.  There was one guard who had been walking by the hall every ten minutes or so.  "Reminds me of the templars."

"But they aren't the templars.  They're in the Warden's house now and they have to play by my rules.  I'm the ruler here...apparently," the female mage waved her hand dismissively.  

"And what a fine ruler you shall be, my lady.  May I walk you to your room?" Anders asked. He snatched up his coins then offered her a hand.  She placed her winnings in her coin purse and tucked it back on her belt before taking Anders' hand.  He didn't let go once she was standing. In fact, he swung their hands lightly as they walked down the hall.  Every time they passed a guard, Cera giggled.  

"So I must ask you, Commander, you speak of the king in a different way from everyone else..." he raised an eye at her.  

"Oh?  How so?"

"You smile too much.  I think you like him. He is dashing, isn't he?"

"Have you been looking for yourself, Anders?" she asked, her crooked walking causing her to bump into Anders.  Another giggle. “He is a married man.”

The male mage shook his head.  "I much prefer the fairer sex. But you...  What about the king drives you mad?"

"His pompous royal attitude," she spat, still grinning.  "I was his first, you know. He got better. Silly Chantry boys and their inexperience.  It's completely different from the Circle boys." Cera shook her head.

"Ah, Chantry boys.  Did he ever get to learn the fun of your magic?"

Fun of it?  What do you mean?" she asked, looking over at her fellow mage.  Anders grinned, pulling her to a stop near their doors. The woman swayed a little from the drunkenness but Anders remedied that.  He backed her up against her door and brought a hand up to her face.  

With a feathery touch, the mage traced her bottom lip with his thumb, then brushed his fingers over her cheek and through her hair.  His fingers then trailed down the side of her neck, over her collarbone, raising goose pimples everywhere they touched and then some.  She gasped, feeling a jolt leave his fingers as they trailed across her covered bosom, the shock traveling to places she never would have thought.  It didn't hurt, surprisingly. It actually felt...good. He smirked at her reaction and did it again, smiling wider as a flush invaded her face.  

"Cute trick," she muttered, pushing off from the wall.  Cera wrapped her arms around Anders' neck and kissed him hard.  He happily complied, reaching behind her to find the door handle.  He fumbled with it, not moving from her at all. Finally he got the door opened.  They stumbled in and he kicked it shut behind them.    


	8. The Smell of Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What cures a hangover?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer is halfway over. I'm going to try my hardest to get a chapter up every Wednesday. Before I go on vacation again, I'll try to get two chapters up.
> 
> I played some Inquisition and, let me tell you, it's hard to go back to writing Awakening. So many head-cannons are floating around in my noggin. Oi. We'll get to Inquisition eventually. Need to finish out Awakening and DA2 first.
> 
> Anywho, as always, any constructive criticism or even a note on what you may have liked in the chapter would be awesome. Thanks to everyone who has read/is reading this. I really appreciate it!

"Good morning!"  

Cera pulled the blanket over her head to hide from the overly chipper voice.  It echoed in her throbbing head like nothing else. Even the softest clink of a glass on the nightstand sounded much like an ogre crashing through a stone wall.  

"Oh, is someone regretting her poor choices last night?"  A chuckle.

Slowly, the female mage peeked out from the blanket, squinting against the daylight pushing its way into the room despite the clouds covering the sun outside.  Anders was leaning over her. He was already dressed and smiling. Why was he smiling? 

"Wow, you really are grumpy in the morning," he  _ tsk _ ed and helped himself to sit on the bed.  He pulled the blanket from her head and gently placed his forefingers on her temples.  She closed her eyes as a cooling sensation calmed swept the pain away. Within a few minutes, her headache was completely gone.

" _ Maker _ , Anders.  Drive the girls wild and cure a hangover?  How could I ever let you go?" Cera muttered.  She was able to fully open her eyes when he was finished and she sat up, pulling her knees to her chest to keep the covers up.  He handed her the glass he had brought in.

"Ah, that's only part of it.  Drink this up and you should be fine to go for the day.  This made me highly sought after for any and all apprentices who snuck off, kidnapped wine, then drank it in the stairwells.  Foolish things," he chuckled.  

The woman sniffed the drink.  It didn't smell terrible. It smelled a bit earthy...maybe a little like dirt.  The taste was horrendous to the point that she wished it tasted like dirt. That would have been better.

"You could have added something to it.  Anything...like fruit or grass...or something.”  Cera stuck her tongue out and handed the empty glass back to him.  He took it and laughed. One thing about mages was that growing up in the Circle led to many casual encounters.  Intimate relations didn't hurt friendships that much because relationships were forbidden. Being around Anders, even after sleeping with him, felt like just being around a friend to her.  

"But then I couldn't see the face of disgust.  I do need my amusement in the morning," he retorted without much thought.  

"Just in the morning?"  She ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to detangle the raven locks.  "I should probably wash up and see what Varel has in store for me today. Can't wait," Cera rolled her eyes then looked over at Anders.  He was giving her a strange look, or a look she perceived as weird. "What?"

The other mage shrugged his shoulders and shook his head slowly.  "Oh, nothing." But his face didn't say nothing. Suddenly Cera was feeling self conscious and pulled the blankets up higher.  That made him smirk. He then patted her knee, stood up, and left the room. He even closed the door behind him, which left the Warden Commander baffled.  Slowly, she got out of bed, washed up, and dressed for the day. She even took the time to do her hair, braiding some of the front and tying it back away from her face.  

After grabbing a quick bite to eat from the mess hall, Cera found Varel in the throne room, as usual, speaking to someone.  Cera approached and waited until he was finished and addressed her. The little bit that she heard mentioned someone named Kristoff.  

"Good morning, Commander."

"Good morning, Varel.  Is everything okay?" she asked, gesturing to the man who had left.  

"Not quite.  We are missing one of our guards named Kristoff.  He had gone off searching for where the Wardens might have been taken.  He has been missing for days."

"Why hasn't anyone gone out to look?" Cera questioned, only realizing the stupidity of it after the words left her lips.  "Let me rephrase that. Will someone be going out to look?"

"He was searching for the darkspawn, Commander.  I was thinking you might be able to look. He had a room in Amaranthine," Varel relayed.  How stupid of her to not think that they would need to be the ones to look. Darkspawn or no, even during the Blight, the Wardens needed to take care of all matters for everyone in order for them to ask for help of any kind.  Why in Thedas would it be different now the Blight was done? At least Amaranthine was not too far from the Keep.

"Of course we'll look.  I will round up the boys and we'll be off."

"Thank you, Commander.  And do not forget about the event tonight."

"Of course.  We will try to be swift," she nodded her head and walked away before anything else could be asked of her.  

The boys, as she deemed them, were still in the mess hall, right where she expected them to be.  They were laughing...well, Anders and Oghren were laughing. Nathaniel still hadn't cracked a smirk.  Cera walked over, leaning over the table with her palms flat against the wood.  

"Gentlemen, we must be off.  Gather your things. I'll meet you outside," she ordered.  The first thing she heard was Oghren's grumbling about how nobody could do things for themselves and how they had better be killing things.  She smirked as she went to retrieve her staff from her room. Along with her new black armor, there was a place for her to secure her staff to her back.  It was still easy to remove but having both of her hands free would be nice.  

Unsurprisingly, Cera was the first one outside the Keep.  She hung by the main gate, waiting for the other three. What was taking them so long?  While it was still early, nothing was ever so easy. A missing soldier? Should have been easy, but she knew better.  Favors always led to more. Something would happen. She could feel it in her gut. 

While she argued with herself in her head, a soft meow caught her attention followed by something rubbing against her leg.  Cera looked down, smiling at the orange tabby cat. She knelt down, picking up the feline. It pawed at her face, claws retracted, and then it lent in to lick her chin, pulling a giggle out of the Commander.

"Oh, look, a kitten!" Anders exclaimed, coming up to her side.  Cera handed it over to him and watched as he immediately nuzzled the animal.  "Reminds me of the mouser in the Circle, Mr-"

"Mr. Wiggums," Cera finished for him.  She had only seen that cat a few times, but he was famous among the Circle.

"Yes!  When I was in solitary, he was the only one I could talk to...which sounds rather pathetic.  He was a great listener, though."

"Anders, why don't you keep it?"

"Keep that cat?  Really? We can do that?"

"I don't see why not.  We had a mabari with us during the Blight.  Granted, I wouldn't suggest the cat come with us anywhere, but he should be safe in your room.  Why don't you go put him there and we'll wait for you. Besides, Oghren is taking forever."

The smile that lit up the blonde's face warmed her heart.  "Hm... I think I will call him... Ser-Pounce-Alot. How's that sound?" he asked the cat in a voice that one would use for an infant.  She shook her head and watched him disappear back in the Keep.

Once the group was assembled, Cera led them to Amaranthine.  Well, Nathaniel actually led them to Amaranthine. Never having been there before, the Commander didn't know which way to go, but Howe did.  The city of Amaranthine was large, surrounded by tall stone walls with guards patrolling every corner of every street. It seemed to be bustling with people and farmers.  Anders inhaled deeply. "Ah, do you smell that?"

"Cow patties?" Oghren asked.

"Trees?" was Nathaniel's guess.  

"Pie?" Cera questioned.  

Anders shook his head.  "Freedom. It smells like freedom."

"Freedom?  Haven't you had freedom when you escaped the Circle all those times?" she asked.

"Yes, but this is real freedom.  I'm not being hunted," he explained.

"The Grey Wardens are freedom to you?" Nathaniel asked him.  It was clear NAthaniel didn’t echo that sentiment with the curled lip he sported.  

Anders sighed.  "All I want is a pretty girl, a nice meal, and to be able to shoot lightning at fools.  Is that really so much to ask for?" he asked, looking around at the others. Cera waved her hand around in front of his face.

"Um, hello?  Pretty girl right here," she smirked.  He returned it, his voice dropping in volume.

"Well, then I guess I'm one step closer to the ultimate happiness," he replied with a wink.


	9. It Should Be Called the Kitten-Marsh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wardens look for a lead on Kristoff's whereabouts.

The city of Amaranthine was fairly large and bustling.  It reminded Cera of her first time in Denerim and she found herself looking around at the stone structures much the way a wide-eyed child would.  The market was filled with numerous tents and tables of merchants selling their wares. They walked through, looking over things. Oghren boasted about the strength of dwarven craftsmanship and how he wouldn't find anything that could replace his axe.  Cera stopped at the apothecary with Anders right over her shoulder. Then there was Nathaniel. The poor man looked like he wanted to hide. He kept his head down, his eyes darting around to the people.  

**It Should Be Called the Kitten-Marsh** "How many poultices do you have for sale?" the female mage questioned the merchant.  The man smiled and went about pointing out what he had. As the gentleman turned around to grab something, Anders leaned down to her ear.

"Is that really necessary?  I could take care of you better than any old poultice," he commented with a snicker.

"And if you are the injured one?  Unless you'd rather me try my hand at mending all of your battle woes..." she replied, glancing over at him with devious violet eyes.  Her male counterpart shook his head and moved back a little bit as the merchant placed some vials before them.

"Buy anything you want, Commander," Anders encouraged and she did just that, stocking up on enough poultices to get them through for a little while.  Of course Anders would be the first stop for all injuries but if he was indisposed or too drained, they needed a back up. While they weren't anticipating running into any darkspawn, Cera wanted to be prepared.  The Keep had been overrun. There had been no warning and those things don’t usually happen just once.  

Cera had just handed over some gold to the merchant and grabbed the vials when she heard Nathaniel mutter, “"I don't believe it," from behind her.  She glanced over at her fellow warden and then in the direction he was staring. A few stands down was a woman with dark hair and a similar bone structure to Nathaniel.  

"Do you know her?"

"That's my sister.  May I go speak with her?" he asked, which surprised the woman.  

"You needn't ask, Nathaniel. Go speak with her."  He nodded and walked off in the woman's direction.  Cera couldn't help but watch the scene from afar. His sister greeted him with a smile and a hug.  They both seemed happy.

"Is he smiling?" Anders mused by Cera's side.  

"I think so."

"Wow.  I didn't think he had it in him."

"Neither did I," Cera replied.  The two continued to stare and Oghren even joined them. It wasn't until the siblings seemed to bid each other goodbye that Cera quickly started shoving the poultices into her pack.  Howe rejoined them, still smiling. "How is she? Happy to see you?"

"I thought she was dead.  I haven't seen Delilah since my father shipped me off to the Free Marches to squire.  She's married to a merchant and expecting. She would like for me to visit..." he trailed off, seeming unsure if his request would be granted.

"You can see her, Nathaniel.  Just because you're a Grey Warden now doesn't mean that you have to cut all family ties.  I don't care how it may have been at one point in time, I won't have that. Of course, you'll need to wait until we find Kristoff."

"Of course.  Thank you."

"See?  I'm not that much of a monster," she winked and walked off toward the inn, her three men in tow.  

The inn was called The Crown and Lion.  From just outside the doors the group could hear the jovial laughter and hollers of the patrons.  When they entered, the smell of well seasoned roast and ale greeted them. It made Cera's stomach grumble.  Even though they had eaten before heading to Amaranthine, the darkspawn blood flowing through her left her hungry most of the day.  Sometimes she wondered if there would be enough food in all of Thedas to satiate the Grey Wardens. Probably not. 

The Warden troop walked through the inn and over to the counter where the owner stood.  A few of the patrons gave them odd looks. Cera suspected it was because both she and Anders were carrying their staffs with them.  Mages made people wary. The Commander kept her focus ahead as she approached the inn keep. "Good morning. I am looking for Kristoff and was told he was staying here?" she asked the older gentleman.  He looked her over and her companions.

"Yeah?  And who are you?"

"His commanding officer.  I am Cera, Commander of the Grey Wardens, ser."

"Oh.  My apologies, miss," he fumbled slightly  with the rag he was holding and continued to toy with it as he spoke.  "Kristoff rented a room for a month, but he hasn't been back in a couple days now."

"Are you sure he isn't up in his room?" Cera questioned.  The innkeeper shook his head.

"'Fraid not but if you want to go knock, feel free.  It's up the stairs, the third room on the right."

"Thank you kindly," Cera offered a warm smile and nodded to her companions to follow.  They walked up the creaky stairs to the third door on the right as instructed. She knocked.  Nothing. It would have been easy to turn away and head back to the Keep for a pint and some boring meetings.  Actually, the meetings sounded terrible, as did the event with the nobles Varel was planning for later. "Nathaniel, would you be able to take care of this door?" she asked, looking over at the rogue.  He seemed surprised before a smirk ghosted over his lips.

"Isn't that against policy?"

"Perhaps in your mind it is.  Grey Wardens do what is necessary and right now we need to find our missing man," she said and stepped aside, sweeping her hand to gesture at the door.  With nothing but a snicker, Nathaniel pulled out some lock picks and set to work. His nimble fingers and exquisite skill had the lock open before anyone was the wiser.  

"Commander," he presented as he stood up and pushed the door open.  They all walked into the small room. The bed was askew, a pack was opened on the floor, and some books littered the small table in the corner. Cera picked the books up and leafed through the pages one at a time.  Nothing stuck out.  

"Huh.  What about that?" Oghren asked.  They all turned to him, the dwarf pointing up at a map pinned to the wall.  It was a map of Ferelden, expanding further past Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep.  X's littered the space over circles but there was one circle that was not crossed out.  Anders walked up to it and frowned.

"The Black Marsh?  That sounds depressing.  Couldn't they call it something else?  The Rainbow Marsh... Kitten Marsh.... Nope.  It doesn't help. It still sounds dreadful," the male mage mused.

"They say the Marsh was once inhabited, until one day everyone disappeared," Nathaniel said.

"What do you mean 'disappeared'?" Cera asked him.  The rogue narrowed his eyes pensively at the map. 

"The whole village disappeared.  My brother Thomas and I often spoke of going to see if it was truly haunted."

"But you never did?"

"My father shipped me off to the Free Marches before I had the chance.  I believe we will be going now, though, correct?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice if Kristoff is there.  Come on, boys. Off to the depressing, haunted marsh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is. I really wish this game was more fleshed out than it was and, to be honest, the Black Marsh was one of my least favorite places to play through. I have an aversion to the Fade, but that is next chapter, not this one.
> 
> As always, I'm open to constructive criticism or even a comment on what you did or didn't like. Thank you to all who read!


	10. The Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The children are CREEPY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said Wednesday for the updates but this week and next week I won't be around to upload the chapters so I'm putting up two today. Once I'm back in August, I'll get back on track. Promise!

It was a good thing the Commander had sent a messenger back to Vigil's Keep to inform Varel they would be long.  By the time the small band of Wardens had reached the Blackmarsh, the moon was high in the sky. It only added to the unsettling feeling Cera got in the pit of her stomach as they passed a broken wooden sign.  "Is it everything you hoped and dreamed for, Howe?" Oghren asked with a throaty chuckle. Nathaniel actually seemed intrigued by what they were walking into, though Cera had other feelings. Anders even placed a hand on her arm to stop her. 

"Do you feel that?" he asked in a hushed tone.  She turned her violet eyes up to the male mage and nodded.  The air was prickling her skin.  

"Feel what?" Nathaniel turned back to them.  His hearing was like that of a hawk's.  

"There's a tear in the Veil here," she replied.  Her instincts urged her to ready her staff and she did just that.  Something was very wrong but they had to continue on and find Kristoff.

"The Veil...  That has something to do with the Fade, doesn't it?" the rogue asked.  Another nod.

"It's the fabric between our world and the Fade.  Some of the books at the Circle spoke of times it was torn, mostly by blood-mages-"

"You actually read those books?" Anders gasped.  Cera leveled a droll gaze at him.

"So what does that mean, commander?" Nathaniel persisted, ignoring Anders as he often seemed to do.

"Be careful.  Demons can pass through tears as easily as we breath," she explained then stopped at a howling in the distance.  "Hopefully those are just wolves..." If only they had been.  

Just up the road, the Wardens were charged by a small pack of werewolves.  They weren't quite like the cursed humans Cera had seen with Witherfang in Ferelden.  No. These were pure evil, their eyes glowing with almost a demonic shine. They died just the same, though.  Oghren brought his ax down across the neck of the last one then flicked the blade to get most of the crimson blood off.  What didn't fly off on its own, he wiped on the creature's fur.  

Eventually they came upon a small clearing with a tent set up and a ring of stones with ash in the middle.  Cera hurried over, immediately ducking down to look in the tent. She retreated with a book in hand. "No Kristoff, but this is his," she declared and opened the cover before leafing through the pages.  The woman read silently for a moment, a frown tugging at her lips. "Guys, listen to this...  _ 'Few in town have heard anything about darkspawn stragglers. I doubted reports myself until a man told me he encountered darkspawn in the Blackmarsh. Although locals say the marsh is haunted, brave and desperate souls like this man still risk collecting peat. _

_ The man said their leader spoke, but all know darkspawn cannot talk. More horrifying, he described a monster, a worm with legs. Surely he was mistaken about it following the darkspawn. _

_ I shall leave for the Blackmarsh in the morning. _ '"

Cera looked up at her companions.  The only one who didn't seem the least bit concerned  was Oghren. She then continued to the next page that contained his last entry.  " _ 'These darkspawn act like no pack I've seen, employing misdirection to keep their location secret. When an archdemon leads, darkspawn are predictable, straightforward. Yet these elude even a Grey Warden! _

_ I've tracked the pack through the Kolorind Forest to the edge of the Blackmarsh. The marsh is dangerous, but soon I'll be home, back with Aura. The Wardens can take me from her bed, but never her from my heart. _ '"  She swallowed hard.  It didn't bode well that Kristoff left his journal behind.  "We need to find him."

"What about those worm-legged creatures?" Oghren gruffed.  "Ain't not darkspawn I know from that description. And surely they can't be that smart."

"The one of the roof seemed to know what he was doing.  He wanted to take prisoners," the female mage countered.  "If there's another here, we have a big problem." She carefully placed the journal in her pack.  

Every noise made the woman jump as the sense of dread filled her the further they traveled into the marsh.  Eventually they came across broken stone walls where a village could have been. The splintered gate drew the mages to it.  Cera reached out to try to push it open when Nathaniel let out a, "Look!". She spun around to see what he was pointing to. Both Oghren and Nathaniel hurried away, leaving Cera and Anders to catch up.  A body lay on the ground unmoving. The rogue knelt beside it. There was no need to check. The person was dead, as was evident by the pool of blood around him. As for the cause of death, there were bites all over.  "What did this?" he asked as he stood.

"Uh...I got an idea..." Oghren said, gripping his ax tighter.  Cera looked around at the creatures crawling to them. Her jaw dropped.  

"I think we found your worm-legged creatures, dwarf," Anders attempted a joke.  It failed miserably. Dread sunk deep into the pit of Cera’s stomach. Reaching the height of their knees, the worm creatures had pointy, shelled legs.  If only that had been the worst of it. Their faces were huge and grinning, like a larger version of a darkspawn's face. Were they the creatures Kristoff mentioned in his journal?  They squealed and crawled faster toward them.

Nathaniel immediately began rapidly firing off arrows before the worm creatures closed in and he was forced to draw his short sword.  Oghren began hacking them apart. Between the mages, they split the elements. Cera shot her hands forward, the blue glow shooting out to the nearest one and freezing it where it stood.  That bought her a little bit of time for Anders to summon a bolt of lightning down, shattering it to pieces. He grinned and continued, as did she. None of them stopped until the worm creatures were all dead.  None of them relaxed when the air fell silent. It was a brief moment, interrupted by the thud of boots and more tapping scurries of those worm creatures.  

Cera stood taller, looking right at the darkspawn leading them.  His face was darker with red paint smeared across it. It could have been blood.  She wasn't sure.  

"It is as she foretold," it spoke.  "If we led the Warden here, you would come.  The Mother was right. The Mother is always right.  And just as she said, you will not help him."

"And who exactly are you?" the commander questioned.  It hissed.

"I am The First and I brought a gift from the Mother," the darkspawn chuckled, opening the palm of its hand.  A black smoke balled together, swirled, and began to expand as it changed to an eerie green tint. It then flashed, releasing a blinding light.  

Cera used her arm to shield her eyes from the sting of it.  She felt dizzy, her legs like rubber. The light dimmed, but it did not dissipate.  She opened her eyes and looked around at their surroundings.  

A lake was just behind them with boats and buildings.  The moon was gone, but there was no sun in the sky to replace it.  While bright, there was no color. Not really. Everything was dull and blurred.  She knew that place well, though the last time she had been forced there was her Harrowing.  

They had been pulled into the Fade.


	11. They Demand Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens are tossed into the Fade where they meet a new companion.

"No!  We are in the Fade, too.  This was not supposed to happen.  I am not supposed to be here with you.  I have been tricked," The First babbled on once he became aware of his surroundings.  Oghren seemed just as confused as the darkspawn.

"Looks like someone is expendable..." Anders sang with a snicker.  The First growled.

"The First is not being 'expendable'!  You will learn it and the Mother will learn it!  But I will leave you with the Children,” the darkspawn yelled, presenting the worm creatures that followed them into the Fade, and ran off.  If only that had been it. As it ran, the Children scurried at them. There were only a few that were easier to take down. Cera walked over to the edge of the hill they were on and looked out at the water.

"What did that sodding darkspawn say?  We're in the Fade? Isn't that where humans go to dream?" Oghren asked, panic laced in his voice.

"Yes, it is the dream realm," Cera replied, looking back at her companion.  Maybe it was the dreamy lighting but her stout companion looked rather peaked.  

"Dwarves don't dream!  I shouldn't be here. We sleep like the stone!"

"I need you to calm down and keep your wits about you, Oghren.  We'll get out of here."

"What's going to happen to my body?  Someone might do something to my modesty!  Or what's left of it."

"Well, if we don't get out soon, you won't have a body to return to," Anders piped up.  

Cera glared at him.  “Anders, stop it," she snapped before returning to Oghren.  She placed delicate hands on his armored shoulders and bent down to look him directly in the eyes.  "I promise I will get you out of here and back to your body, Oghren. I have never broken a promise to you.  I won't break it now."

"If you say so, commander," the dwarf muttered and Cera stood back up.  

"How exactly can we get out of this?" Nathaniel asked.  He was standing under and examining a row boat floating in mid air.  

"I think our best course of action is to find The First.  There must be a way to reverse it. There has to be," Cera thought out loud and nodded for them to move out.

The layout of the marsh was exactly as they had traveled before.  Instead of werewolves, they encountered shades. Then they stumbled upon a curious thing.  It was a pedestal in the middle of a clearing. Three lavender skinned demons floated around it, their hands stretched toward one another to create a circle.  One of the demons cocked her head to the side to look at the wardens and smiled. She moved around, her hands sensually running over her barely clothed body. Oghren made a grunt of approval, a dumb smirk on his face.  

"Desire demons," Cera explained, butting Oghren with the end of her staff.  "Don't stare too hard, just kill them!”

Unlike the shades, the desire demons were one of the stronger demons.  The commander was pleased that Nathaniel kept himself composed, though Oghren eventually snapped out of his daze to swing his axe.  

One rounded on Cera and reached out.  The mage jerked her head back. For a moment she lost eye contact and when she looked back, it wasn't the demon she saw.  It was Cullen smiling at her. She knew it wasn't really him, but it caught her off guard. The templar's image walked toward her and reached out.  She back up until a rock face met her back and the demon cupped her cheek in its hand.  

"I'm sorry for everything I've done to you.  I just want you so much. It's all I think about," the demon said.  It even sounded like him. Why couldn't she break it? It was like she was trapped.  Her mind was functioning but her body was acting on its own accord. Even when it leaned toward her, all she wanted to do was meeting Cullen's lips.  The pull was so tantalizingly strong...

Cullen's image burst into flames, waking Cera from her dream like state as the heat seared her face.  She shrank back against the wall to try to escape the heat. The demon returned to its natural form in her eyes as it writhed and fell to the floor, its purplish skin now charred.  The commander shook her head and took some deep breaths. 

"Cera, are you okay?" Anders approached her.  "What exactly did it show you?" he asked. The desire demon could only project images toward the person they were tricking.  Nobody else saw it, thank the Maker.

Cera looked over at her mage companion and shook her head.  "I've never had that happen before. Ever."

"What did you see?" he repeated.

"I...  We need to keep going," she said and walked past all of them.  The three boys traded curious glances then followed. 

The team encountered two more pedestals surrounded by desire demons, but none snuck past Cera's mental defenses again.  She was on high alert. The paths wound around the Blackmarsh to a set of gates. Nathaniel pushed them open, revealing an actual village.  People walked around and they were people, not just typical spirits. Some were crying over their missing children. Many kept using the phrase 'my mistress', which just left the mage baffled.  It all led to another gate. Above it stood a large estate. In front of it was a crowd of people and a spirit. The spirit, while translucent, was wearing some form of armor and carried a sword and shield.  He was rallying the townsfolk, speaking of the injustices done to the people.  

"And who comes now?" the spirit gestured to the Wardens.  "More minions of the baroness? Or yet more helpless souls she has tormented?"

Cera looked back at her companions then to the spirit.  "Neither. We are Grey Wardens, brought here against our will."

"I cannot say what a 'Grey Warden' is, but clearly you are a stranger.  Perhaps it is a sign."

"A sign for what?" Anders asked but it was ignored.

"I am Justice," the spirit introduced himself, placing a fist against his chest in greeting.  "I have watched this place and seethed at the wrongs visited on these poor folk, and now I seek to aid them."

"What wrongs were done?"

"Once, we live in the real world, and the baroness ruled over us," a nearby guard spoke.  "She took our children and used their blood to work dark, evil magic. And when we burned down her mansion, she cast one final spell that brought us here.  We have been trapped ever since, still under her rule."

"Blood magic at its finest," Anders growled with a shake of his head.  Cera agreed. She found the practice revolting. Using children's lives to cast such magic?  It boiled her blood just thinking about it. "I think that since the baroness trapped these people here, that she's our best chance of getting out."  

The commander nodded in agreement, not that she relished the idea of seeking her aid.  Then again, if they helped the villagers...

"Tell me, stranger, will you help us in this righteous task?  Being a Grey Warden appears to make you an able sort, and thus your aid would be most welcome."

"We will gladly help you," Cera replied without a second thought.  

"Then we have the numbers to deal with the baroness directly," Justice nodded and turned to the gate.  

"Oooh, a direct challenge," Oghren chuckled.  "I like the sound of that. Less talk, more killing!"

"On second thought, they just said she’s an evil, powerful witch.  Do we really want to antagonize her?" Anders asked.  

Cera turned to him, raising an eyebrow in a silently scolding manner.  “You do want to return to your body, don't you?"

"Well, yes, but I'd also like to stay alive."

"If we don't do this, you really won't be.  Besides, we can defeat her and force her to use her magic to send us back.  It might be our only chance," Cera replied. Her companion sighed, but nodded in defeat.  

"All right.  You've convinced me.  Let's go," he gestured that he'd follow.


	12. Justice Is Served

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black Marsh continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the extended two week delay getting this up. Vacations are officially over but then a wicked cold decided it needed to visit for my birthday...
> 
> I apologize in advance for any errors or wonky formatting on the chapter. I posted it from my phone. When I’m feeling better I’ll get on my computer and fix it up all pretty.
> 
> Thanks for your patience!
> 
> EDIT: Alas, I was able to get on a computer and fix the formatting. Thanks for your patience!

Justice kicked the gate open and stormed through.  Villagers and guards alike followed, as did the Grey Wardens. 

"Far too long have her crimes gone unpunished!  Now is the time to reclaim your freedom!" Justice rallied and the villagers cheered.  

Everyone stopped in the mansion's courtyard.  The doors opened and out walked a young, fresh-faced woman in a maroon gown.  Her black lips curled down when she spotted the crowd. On either side of her were shade demons.

"My, my," she began, leaning over the railing.  "All that shouting outside and now you've finally decided to barge in?  Without even a proper invitation?"

"Foul sorceress!  You will release these poor folk and submit yourself to justice!"  The spirit was aptly named.

"Justice?" the baroness sneered.  "Is that what you're calling it? What of their punishment, burning my home to the ground and with me in it?"

"Because you were stealing our children!  Using their blood to feed your vanity!" a villager yelled.

"As was my due!  You lived on my land.  I, your rightful ruler!  Your blood was mine just as your lives are now!"

"Their lives are not yours any longer!" Cera yelled, feeling enraged by the baroness' very presence.

"What's this?  The pathetic fools have managed to recruit yet more sympathizers?"

"We are no longer alone, Baroness!  Your reign ends here!" Justice unsheathed his sword.

"As it is, I am no longer alone, either," the hated woman presented a new presence.  The First joined her side briefly before walking down the stairs and over to stand before Cera.

"My path back across the Veil lies in victory over you and your new allies.  Then the Mother will pay for her treachery," The First spoke.  

"I figured you'd turn up sooner or later," Cera narrowed her eyes at the darkspawn.  

"We must be ending this! Now!  The Grey Warden, it is more dangerous than you know," the creature looked back at the baroness, who seemed most unamused by the exchange.  

"Oh?  As your wish, creature.  Slay them and you shall have the reward you requested."

The battle began with Justice flashing himself up to the baroness while The First immediately swung at Cera.  She held up her staff in defense, but the darkspawn's sword cut right through it. She jumped back, tossing the pieces aside, and cupped her hands as she began chanting.  Her feet carried her away from the darkspawn but she never broke eye contact. Heat traced her fingers as a budding flame bloomed and grew. When it filled her hands, she flicked her wrists out towards the creature, sending a cone of fire at it.  The First hollered, still moving toward her through the fire. The flames died down and Cera and backed against the wall. An arrow pierced the back of its shoulder when he started to swing his blade down. That was enough of a distraction for Cera to roll along the wall to the side to avoid the blade.  It sparked against the stone moments after she moved.

The others were occupied with the shades the baroness summoned.  Even Justice had to forget about the baroness for the time being.  Aside from that one arrow, Nathaniel's attention had been diverted, leaving Cera facing The First alone.  

He swung again.  She ducked. When calm and composed, the woman could think of a million spells, but in the heat of battle, her mind was blank.  Her violet eyes widened as his sword came down again. This time he anticipated her dodge and buried the blade in the top of her shoulder.  He pulled it out, along with a scream from her throat. He went to swing again, this time for her neck, but stopped mid-swing. His eyes darted from side to side but he didn't move.  Cera put her hand over her shoulder and looked over at Anders who shook his hand out with pride.

"No!  You fool!  Why haven't you defeated them?" Baroness yelled from her perch.  Justice stalked back toward her now that the shades had been defeated. "You want to go back through the Veil?  Fine, but I will be using your life force to do it," she barked and threw her hands out.  

The First was picked up from the ground, his body snapping back, his blood being ripped out from his body.  At least, Cera thought the black fluid to be blood. Once again, light blinded them all. Cera squinted and waited for the dizzy feeling to pass.  The blinding light faded to darkness.  

A drop of rain hit her right on the forehead.  Cera opened her eyes, looking up at the dreary sky.  They were once again in their own bodies. Just the four of them in the dark, abandoned black marsh.  The bodies of the children, The First, and Kristoff lay around them. The commander pushed herself to sit up, waiting for the pain in her shoulder, but there was nothing.  She looked over. Nothing. Sometimes the Fade was good like that.  

“Is everyone all right?" she asked as her companions stirred.

"As good as I'll ever be after being thrown into the Fade without my permission," Anders snarled.  

"My body!" Oghren exclaimed as he clapped his hands to his chest.  Nathaniel stayed silent, only nodded. They all staggered to their feet.  It felt like she hadn't walked in months. Her legs were jelly, but at least her staff was whole again and she could lean on it.  

"I think we desperately need to get out of here and back to the Keep," Cera muttered and took a few steps when she noticed Anders' jaw drop.  She straightened up and followed his gaze to Kristoff's body. It was moving...

"What... where am I?  What is happening?" Kristoff spoke.  How was that even possible? It was a corpse, no two ways about it.  Blood was crusted around the wounds yet it looked at them. His voice, however, sounded an awful lot like Justice...  "No! This is the world of mortals, beyond the Veil! And this... this is a mortal body of flesh! I am trapped within!"  That confirmed it.  

"...Can't I just kill the body?"  Why did that slip out of her mouth?  

"I...no.  That will not return me to the Fade, I think.  I ...do not know. The witch sundered the Veil in her haste.  All of us were drawn through. She has returned to this realm, as well.  Can you not feel it? The baroness is nearby," he growled. It sounded like he was scolding her.  Cera was taken aback, her eyes wide.

"I can feel something's wrong, yes, but not specifics," she stammered in reply.  

"She cannot be far.  She will be...difficult to deal with, here in this realm.  She is not mortal as you or as were the villagers she kept trapped.  There was such a mortal, once, but now? That is a demon of pride. She assumed that role long age to feed from the mortals she trapped."

"Well...she was a blood mage.  In order to learn such magic, one usually consults with demons in the Fade and it goes from there-"

"Are you the same?" Justice turned on Cera and leaned in.  She could smell death on the living corpse and it made her want to gag.

"No," she replied sternly.  "I am a mage. We learn about such dangers so as to avoid them.  If she consulted a pride demon, it's not surprising that it took over.  I've only ever seen one once before. They're...one of the more difficult demons.  It needed to possess a body to cross over into this world. Like you."

"I do not know why I am in this body.  It was not by choice, I assure you," he retorted.  "We must find the baroness before she causes more harm and allows more demons entry into this world."

"She's probably where we left her," Anders suggested.  They agreed and moved toward the village remnants.  

The baroness had indeed been waiting for them.  She taunted them briefly before unleashing her true form.  Pride demons were the most feared and the strongest. They were also the largest.  The only time Cera had encountered one was during her Harrowing. The ever so helpful 'mouse' had been a pride demon the whole time.  She had withstood it, yet she had been tricked by a desire demon earlier. It was not the time to think on it, though.

As what usually happened, Cera knew she'd only get in one good spell if the demon focused on her, so she had to make it a good one.  She began chanting and circling her hands low, slowly raising them up. It was longer to prepare but when it was ready, a lightning storm centered on the pride demon.  She had to focus to prevent the bolts from striking her companions. She held it as long as she could, until her energy was drained and she was reduced to send little bolts at it from the stone at the top of her staff.  Oghren and Justice were in the fray, causing the most damage until the damn thing fell.  

Cera didn't care how muddy the ground was.  She sat down when it was over. She was exhausted and needed to regain some energy before they made the trip back to the Keep.

"Well, that was exciting," Anders joined her on the ground after patching up Oghren and Nathaniel.  "I must say that I prefer darkspawn entirely. Much easier to deal with."

Cera scoffed and nodded.  "Even the smarter ones. Blood mages have become the bane of my existence.  No wonder people fear us."

"What?"  She looked at him, frowning at the hurt on his scruffy face.

"Only we have the ability to do that," she pointed over to the dead pride demon.  "That blood mage let a pride demon possess her and then proceeded to suck her whole village into the Fade, using the blood of children.  She killed them all and for what? Because she was a selfish bitch who thought herself better. The few really do ruin it for the many. Because of people like her and Uldrid, the rest of us are taken from our homes and put into Circles.  They are the reason we're watched so closely by templars."

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Anders replied.  She knew he felt strongly against the imprisonment of mages but she was tired and didn't care much to censor herself.

"You would never do anything like this, Anders.  I know that. You genuinely want to help people and want mages to be free.  You weren't there when Uldrid destroyed Kinloch Hold. You didn't see what he did."

"When was this?"

"During the Blight.  After you escaped."

"What happened?"

"I-"

"Commander, we should return to the Keep," Nathaniel interrupted.  She nodded and picked herself off the ground, cringing at the cold, wet feeling of the mud through her clothes.  

"I'll tell you later, Anders," she said and they began their journey back to Vigil's Keep with their new old recruit.


	13. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang returns from the Blackmarsh, but sleep isn't so easy to come by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! An update on Wednesday!! Hope everyone's having a good week. 
> 
> Yes, it's time to get back into the swing of things. At least with this chapter and the next, we're hitting the inbetweens of the game missions. A little of this, a little of that...
> 
> Thank you to those who are reading, have subscribed, commented, or left kudos. I really appreciate it and, as always, constructive feedback is always welcome here.

It was late when the Wardens arrived back at the Keep.  Most everyone was already sleeping except for the guards and Varel.  That shouldn't have been surprising. The men went off to their rooms but the Commander strayed to Varel's study.  The door was ajar and she could see the lantern glowing inside. The woman knocked and waited for a response before entering.

"Commander," he greeted, looking rather grim.  He gestured to the chair across his desk. As tempting as it was to sit, she didn't much feel like getting mud caked onto the fancy cushion, so she shook her head to the offer, opting to stand beside the chair..

"I'm a little too grimy to sit,but thank you," she replied softly. 

"Did you find Kristoff?"

"Yes, we did."  She rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead and closed her eyes.  How was she going to explain it? "The detour to the Blackmarsh was rather...unique.  We came across another talking darkspawn that called himself 'The First' and spoke of a mother.  We also had the immense pleasure of killing a new type of darkspawn."

"A new type?" the Seneschal asked as he set down his quill and leaned back in his chair.  She nodded.

"The First called them 'the children'.  They hatched, I guess. There were egg sacs and these  _ children _ resembled giant larva.”  She was unable to stop the shudder that accompanied the thought of those things.  “Long story short, we found Kristoff's body," she said. The news tugged a frown on Varel's mouth.  "But he's back with us... I know this is going to sound mad, but after certain events that occurred, a spirit of Justice was pulled into Kristoff's body."

"A what?” Varel sat forward in his chair again.  “Is it an abomination?"

"I don't believe so.  Justice isn't looking for anything but, well, justice.  I offered to slay the body to release him, but he didn't believe it would work.  I plan on looking through every book in the library to find something on it and I have someone I can write to to consult," Cera explained, trying to ease Varel's mind.  It didn't look like it was working. "He wants to avenge Kristoff's body by killing the darkspawn and this 'mother'. I will be keeping a very close eye on him."

"Anything else to report?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes.  

"Only that I really need a bath," she smirked.  He wasn't amused. "I should be able to think more clearly after a good night's rest."

"We shall meet in the morning, Commander.  I have also moved court to tomorrow afternoon and you will need to be present for it.  There are matters that must be dealt with and the nobles are already disgruntled that it had to be cancelled."

"By no fault of my own.  My warden duties outweigh the needs of the people."

"You are acting Arlessa.  This is an important part of that role.  I can only do so much. The people need to recognize you as their leader."

"A mage.  Right. Of course.  Because people love to hear what we think," she snipped.  After a moment, she sighed. "I'm sorry. It was a long day.  I will handle everyone's problems tomorrow and continue hunting darkspawn because that's my job.  Good night, Varel," she said and left before she said anything else that she regretted.

A servant was kind enough to draw a hot bath for her that she happily sunk into.  Cera took her time washing the grime from her body and sunk her head beneath for a moment.  The soap and oil provided was lavender scented. Not her favorite, but it was better than the smell of the Blackmarsh.  She was just beginning to stand from the tub when her door swung open. Cera's attention snapped to the intruder, who just happened to be Justice.  

"Commander," he announced upon his entry.  It took a moment for her to realize she was bare before him and when she did, she slipped right back under the water and hugged the side of the tub.  

"You have to knock!" she screeched.  

Justice didn't seem to quite understand, but her shrill voice had echoed through the hallways.  Oghren rushed in with his axe, Anders right behind with Nathaniel. The spirit looked around with a stern pout and furrowed brows.

"Commander, I need to speak with you," Justice repeated.  Oghren started chuckling before turning around and leaving.  Nathaniel’s face turned five shades of red as he averted his eyes down to the floor.

"Speak with me?  Now? Andraste's tits, Justice, you can't just barge in here at any time you wish.  Get. Out," Cera barked at him.

"It's of an urgent matter."  

She narrowed her eyes to glare at the new recruit, wishing she had attempted to release the spirit from Kristoff's body.  What if she lit him on fire right then?

"Our new friend, I believe this is an inappropriate time," Anders clapped Justice on the shoulder to turn him back to the door.

"But I'm having memories of this body," the spirit argued.

"If you don't get the hell out, there won't be a body left to have memories of," Cera growled, huddling further under the water.  

"She is quite right.  We should all leave her be."  Nathaniel stuttered and took over ushering Justice out of the room.  

Anders should have followed, but he didn't.  He closed the door, turning back to Cera with a shit-eating grin on his face.  Her death glare followed him as he walked about the room, collecting a towel for her, and returning to the tub.  He knelt down, still smirking.

"Well, that was exciting.  I'm glad he broke the ice there," the male mage said before standing up and holding the towel out length wise.  With slight hesitation, Cera stood and allowed Anders to wrap the towel around her body before removing his hands.  

"Why didn't you leave with them, Anders?  I'm not quite sure what you're looking for here, but I don't want the company."

"I was actually on my way here.  You promised me the tale of Kinloch Hold's demise.  I wanted to hear it and my curious brain just wouldn't sleep.  Figured after all the excitement today, you wouldn't be sleeping quite yet, either."  

It amazed her how observant he was about her.  That didn't mean she wanted company, though.

Cera wrapped the towel tight around her body and carefully stepped out of the tub.  She walked over to her bed to grab her nightdress then moved to the fireplace. Anders turned his back, giving her some time to put on her clothes.  Her signal of being done was tossing the towel at his back. It hit him and got stuck draped over his shoulder. He removed it as he joined her on the rug in front of the fire.  

"Must you really need to know about this now?  At this time of night after the days we’ve had?" she asked him.

"You started it.  I just want to finish it and end the suspense.  It's killing me! Truly," he exclaimed, throwing himself back on the fur rug.  He then rolled on to his side, propping his head up with his hand. "Seriously, though.  Tell me now and I will leave you be to rest your pretty little head."  

She stared at him as he stretched out beside her.  Eventually she rolled her eyes and pulled her knees to her chest.  "Fine. It was during the Blight and we had to go back to the Circle to request the mages aid us. I thought it would be a quick trip since I lived there once, you know?   When we returned, the doors were locked and everyone was in a panic. Do you remember Uldred?” she asked. Anders nodded. “Well, he rallied blood mages and unleashed demons upon the Circle.  Gregoir even called for the Rite of Annulment," Cera started, looking at the fire.  

"The Rite of Annulment?  Seriously? Aren't the templars supposed to deal with that sort of thing?"

"So now you're acknowledging that some mages need to be dealt with?"

"That's not what I'm saying.  It's just...deal with the few, not the whole,” Anders said.  

"That's what I believed, but you didn't see what I saw," she stated.  Cera looked down at Anders as she continued. "Gregoir let us in on the condition that we were only allowed back out if First Enchanter stood before him and declared the Circle safe.  Inside...it was a slaughterhouse, Anders. Mages, apprentices, templars, and even children. Corpses were everywhere. We got to Irving, but…” she hugged her knees tighter. “Uldred tortured mages until they let demons in.  We killed him, but we had to kill others, too. Irving fought hard. We brought him back to Gregoir as requested.”

"Wow...  How many made it?"

"About thirty to forty mages, give or take.  About a twenty templars or so."

"It really was a slaughter, huh?" Anders said softly.  Even though he spoke only of how he loathed the tower and being stuck there, it sounded like he did care.

"It was.  All caused by blood magic and a mage who wanted power.  They're dangerous, Anders," she sighed.

"It's not all mages, though."

"And it's not all templars who want us dead," she said back and laid down beside him on her side.  "We could argue this all night, you know. No matter what group, there's always good with the bad. Our bad is just really bad.  I don't blame people for being scared, but I do want to work toward the understanding that we're not all terrible maleficarum. Yes, we need a place for schooling and learning to control our powers, but we shouldn't be torn from our homes.  We need family, too."

"As noble as that is, it's not going to work.  We'll always be caged like dogs." Anders let out a heavy sigh.  He sat up and ruffled his hair with his hands, pulling blonde strands from the tie that was holding it back.  He finally pulled the tie out, letting down his shoulder-length locks.  

"Maybe it’ll change one day,” she replied.  He said nothing in return, but there was a chance she may have seen him roll his eyes.  

“It was a long day.  I'm going to bed. Thanks for sharing."  

The female mage watched him get up and leave, his shoulders drooped and head low.  Instead of climbing into her own bed, Cera put her head down on the fur rug and watched the dancing flames until she drifted off to sleep.


	14. A Familiar Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dear friend makes their arrival at the Keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's not Wednesday, but looking at my calendar, that's going to be a difficult schedule to keep. I'm going to try a couple different days before determining what will be the new update day each week. Please bare with me in the meantime. Also, there is a chance I might get a little post happy and put up a couple chapters at a time. That will fully depend on how life works itself out. I've just been having my brain on the next work (DA2) and there's some chapters I want to add and others I REALLY need to edit.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy and, if you do, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment. Thanks!

One would think after the previous day that the Commander of the Grey Wardens would sleep until the sun was high in the sky.  Unfortunately, she had woken up on the floor just before sunrise, cold from the fire having gone out at some point. There was no finding sleep after that.  Besides, she needed to get moving to prepare for court and she needed to write to Avernus regarding Justice. Then there was scouring the library for any books regarding spirit possession.  It was a good thing the woman was no longer in the Circle. That type of study could be misconstrued and end with her on the short list for the Rite of Tranquility.

The sun was shining and there was no imminent threat of a darkspawn attack so Cera opted to rummage through the wardrobe instead of pulling on her usual mage robes or warden armor.  In the Circle, they were only ever allowed to wear the robes that were provided to them. She went straight from that to the Blight and a Warden’s uniform where being attacked on a daily basis was normal.  Now, despite the random attacks and creepy marshes, she felt like she could breathe...kind of. Besides, the dresses were pretty and she had always wanted to dress up. It had to be appropriate for court, too, right?  

Cera settled on a deep blue dress with long sleeves.  The neckline ran straight across her chest and off her shoulders.  It had silver embroidery along the neckline, around the waist, and down the sides of the skirt.  She couldn't help but stare at herself in the mirror. Mage robes were usually high collared with odd ruching.  The exception would be those worn by Tevintar mages. Those robes were a little more scandalous, even for the men.  In fact, Anders robes had been of a Tevintar make when she and Mhairi had found him in the Keep.  

"Imagine wearing this to a fancy party," she mused at her reflection in the mirror, turning from side to side.  The downside to the dress was that from her bosom to her chin, she was bare. Her neck was naked and gave her the best pallet to show off the necklace Duncan had gifted her after her Joining.  It was a small vial with some of the darkspawn blood she drank. Every warden received one as a reminder of the sacrifice countless people had made, or that’s what Alistair had told her. She hadn’t done so for Nathaniel, Oghren, or Anders.

After  brushing her hair down, the mage slipped on silver shoes and left her room, beaming at how she felt she looked.  She looked like a typical lady, not a mage, and that made her smile. 

When she neared the main hall, Cera heard the Seneschal’s strict voice talking to someone.  He was always so business-like. Curious, and not ready to make her presence known, Cera kept behind one of the large square pillars.  She could see Varel and as she peeked around, she spotted their visitor. The lips instantly pulled up into a smile.

“We received no word about new recruits.  Unless you have a decree from the King, I must ask you to leave peacefully," he stated.  

"Kind sir, I assure you that if you wake our dear commander she will welcome me with open arms.  I cannot help that I am quicker to travel than the King's orders," their guest replied with gusto.  He looked rather tidy compared to the last time she saw him. Before Varel could speak another word, Cera slipped around the pillar and approached.

"Did my ears deceive me or did I hear that we have new recruits?" she asked.  Their guest grinned and opened his arms wide.

"Commander, we received no word from the King and with all of the recent activity, it is best that we have this all verified," Varel began, but she waved him off.

"Nonsense.  I would never kick out an old friend.  Zevran, how are you?" Cera walked right into his embrace.  Surprisingly, the elf behaved himself from nestling into her bosom.

"You look stunning, my dear.  Tired, but marvelous!"

"What brings you here to this side of the country?"

"I am actually on my way to Antiva, but promised our King to bring over some newly trained recruits.  Word traveled that you are in need of extra help."

"One could say that.  Oh, Varel this is Zevran Arainai.  He assisted us during the Blight," she introduced her elven friend.  The Seneschal nodded and extended his hand.

"My apologies, ser Zevran.  These are trying times."

"One should always be cautious," Zev replied, shaking Varel’s hand.

"Where are the recruits, by chance?" she asked, looking around.

"Outside the gate, being watched by your guard.  You might want to station a few more. There are many ways an assassin could sneak in."

"One already did.  Well, more thief than assassin.  Anyway, please let them in, Varel, and direct them to the mess hall.  After court this afternoon we could...do whatever it is a commander does with recruits.  Test them?" she asked, truly not sure. Duncan had gone to the Circle to find recruits, but circumstances hadn't allowed her to see the true way to do so.  Anders was conscripted, as was Nathaniel. Oghren volunteered with a pep in his step and the dwarf gave her no pause. She knew his abilities were great.

"I will have the training grounds prepared for this afternoon, commander."

"Thank you, Varel," she smiled and led Zevran off deeper into the Keep.  "This is a very pleasant surprise, Zev. How have you been? How's Saniel?"

"I figured someone needed to check on you and who better than me?  You must be so lonely here," he teased with a nudge. "Our fair elf is doing well enough, I suppose."

"What is that supposed to mean?  Is she okay?"

"She's the same stoic, cynical, fierce warrior we adore."  Cera nodded at the description. That was Saniel all right.  She was an emotionless wall on her best days. "And the King is doing well, too."

"I didn't ask about him."

"But you wanted to," Zev gave her a shit-eating grin.  Cera looked ahead, not responding. In truth, she did want to know about Alistair.  Even when she left, they only spoke formally and strictly about warden business. "He has settled into his role admirably."

"Good," she shortly replied, turning them both to the library.  The door was always open, but it wasn't empty like she had hoped.  Justice was standing near one of the bookshelves, studying the spines.  In one of the chairs sat Anders, Ser-Pounce-A-Lot curled up on his lap as he read.  The both looked over to Cera and Zevran upon their entry.

"Commander," Justice greeted formally.  "I apologize for my intrusion last night.  It was explained to me that that was out of line."

"It's fine, Justice.  Thank you," she replied then looked at Anders.  His eyes shot up to her face mischievously. 

"A suitor?  Marvelous!" Zevran exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

"No," Cera was quick to reply.  "Um, Anders, Justice, this is Zevran.  He's a friend from the Blight."

"Is this the assassin Oghren goes on about?" Anders questioned, only taking a quick look at Zevran. 

"Yes.  He is."

"Oghren is here, as well?" Zev laughed.  "Fantastic! I will go find him and we will test your recruits later.  I will find you," he said and slipped out. She didn't need to ask if he needed assistance finding anything.  As an assassin, his sense of direction was impeccable. However, that left her alone with the others and after last night, she wasn't sure where she stood with Anders.  He didn't seem too mad, though.

"What are you two looking up?" Cera asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"Spirits.  Is that why you're here, as well?" her fellow mage questioned, leaning his chin into hand.

"Yes.  Are you done staring?"

"Well, there's just so much to stare at, Cera.  Do you believe that to be appropriate for the stick-in-the-mud nobles?"

"It was in my wardrobe...and I never got to wear anything like this before.  Besides, I cannot meet with them in my armor or formal mage robes. I want to look as normal as possible-"

"Normal?" he scoffed, gently moving his cat to the chair so he could stand up.  "Why? Because we're monsters?"

Cera rolled her eyes.  "That's not what I meant."

"Then why the facade?"  Anders moved in until they were about nose to nose.  

"Because I was forced into it, Anders.  Mages can't hold titles. Neither can Grey Wardens.  Yet, here I am as acting Arlessa of Amaranthine and I have to help the very people who would sooner see me hanged for something I have no control over, not to mention that I was involved with the demise of their former Arl.  And you know what? I'm okay with it. Damn it, Anders, are we going to fight about this every time we're in the same room together?"

For some reason, he smirked.  "Perhaps," he said softly, running his hand up her arm and over her bare shoulder.  It raised bumps on her skin.  

"I don't find it funny.  I find it annoying," she huffed in return, trying to ignore the warmth his fingers spread.  She couldn't tell if it was just him or if he was using his magic. She slapped his hand off her shoulder and took a step back.  He still looked amused, which just angered her. "Look, while I have a small amount of time to myself, can we just look for anything on Fade spirits and them crossing over as non-abominations and see what we get?"

"As my commander wishes," Anders rolled his eyes and stalked back over to the chair.


	15. Court Is In Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, politics...

"All rise for the Warden-Commander and acting Arlessa of Amaranthine," Varel introduced Cera.  She hesitantly entered the main hall to stand beside the Seneschal. Before them was a crowd of people from Amaranthine.  Some were noticeably commoners while others were dolled up nobles. She could just barely see Nathaniel Howe standing near the back in the shadows, but no other wardens were present.  She couldn't blame them. Oghren was most likely drinking with Zev and she had left Anders and Justice in the library. "Commander?"

"Let us begin," she said, though she was far from ready.  Cera sat down in what she could only describe as a throne, even though thrones were only reserved for kings, right?  

Before court, Cera had sought out Varel in an attempt to understand what they would be doing.  He told her that matters would be brought to her and she would need to decide the best course of action while not stepping on anyone's toes.  It was a political dance, one she had only dipped her toes in during the Blight, but even then she had had Alistair. Now she was alone with nothing but a Seneschal to help her oversee the townsfolk's affairs.

Most of the cases brought forth were of needing protection from the darkspawn.  As the Warden-Commander, she was able to make the decision to send scouts out to survey the area and then she would send any soldiers needed.  Varel pointed out that they couldn't spread the guard too thin, which she agreed with. The cases would be looked at further before making any set decisions on stationing guards.  The townsfolk seemed pleased that they were even thought about. A few cases were in regards to land disputes and boiled down to childish “he said - she said” arguments about what former Arl Howe had dished out.  The dead man had obviously had favorites and, with Varel's opinions, Cera dealt with it as best she could without being biased. It had been difficult. She wanted to take away from all of Rendon Howe’s supporters.

"The Warden-Commander will now hear the case of the Crown versus the sheepherder Alec," Varel announced.  

The guard captain brought forward a man with auburn hair and a look of panic plastered to his face.  His clothes were dirty and had tears in them. "Alec is accused of stealing bread from the Crown. The penalty for stealing from the Crown is death."  

Cera looked over at Varel, trying not to let the panic show through.  It was one thing to kill darkspawn, murderous bandits, and assassins. It was another to sentence someone who clearly needed the food.

"Please," Alec began as he clasped his hands together.  "The Blight destroyed our lands and our crops. My family was starving, my children ill.  I just wanted to help my family." His plea gripped her heart and squeezed.  

"Commander, if he stole from anyone else it would have only been a flogging.  Not the Crown, though," Varel leaned over to her and spoke quietly. Alistair was the Crown now.  Would he approve of a death sentence? She highly doubted it, but he was on the other side of Ferelden.  Everyone's eyes were on her, waiting for a decision. Cera opened her mouth, panicked eyes holding onto Varel.  Before she spoke, he shook his head. "Conscripting him into the Wardens is not an option. You must separate the two positions."

The mage looked back at Alec then at the rest of the crowd, looking for Nathaniel.  She couldn't find him, but she certainly wasn't going to let a man die over something like bread.  Then again, she thought back to the Circle. There had to be a punishment and it had to be enough to prevent others from doing the same, in theory.  Irving had always been strict on that and approved of Gregoir's punishments, no matter who the person was. Still...  

"Alec, I will grant this one time reprieve.  You will be flogged and then you will swear yourself to the King's army so your family can be fed," Cera stated, though she didn't feel confident.  Nobles whispered among themselves, Alec was relieved, the guard captain looked unsure, but Varel nodded.

"That was a good call, Commander.  Shall we continue?" She nodded. "Next the court calls forth the soldier Danella."

"This matter is serious, Commander.  Danella, a soldier of the Vigil, abandoned her post and was caught three leagues away," the guard captain explained.  “She is charged with desertion. Even if it were not a time of war, the penalty would be death."

The soldier shook her head.  Her hands were bound behind her back.  "I asked the old captain several times to release me from my oath.  The darkspawn are too near my family's farm. They need me, my lady.  I am no coward," Danella pleaded to Cera.  

"You dishonor everyone who serves the Vigil!" the new guard captain spat.  "You think you're alone in having family under threat?"

"Captain, that is enough," Cera's voice boomed for the first time since court was in session.  She even held her hand up to silence Varel when he tried to offer his opinion. She didn't need it.  Something about the accusation of the woman perturbed her. "Danella," she began, her voice stern yet soft, "everyone's families are in danger of darkspawn.  Still, these soldiers stand at their posts and await orders to defend our country. The war placed the same risk on every soldier, yet they stood tall, even at Ostagar.  Desertion is not something that is tolerated." She could feel her blood boiling. "You leaving your post could have easily killed someone else's family. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, but-"

"There is no but.  The sentence stands.  You will be hanged for your crimes," Cera stated.  Danella began to cry as she was escorted back through the crowd.  The hall was silent, the tension thick.

"Shall we continue, Commander?" Varel asked after a moment.

The mage shook her head.  "I need air." Varel dismissed the nobles and Cera turned back, quickly striding through the Keep to the gardens in the back.  

The gardens weren't lush and blooming.  They were destroyed from the Blight and the attacks from the darkspawn when she arrived.  Wilted flower petals and browned vegetation littered the walled off areas. She didn't care.  Court had snowballed rapidly and although she knew her last decision was the right one, her stomach roiled.  It felt like she was being choked, though the neckline on her dress wasn't even close. She sat down on a mossy stone bench and dropped her head in her hands, her raven locks creating a curtain to hide her face.

"Commander," a rough voice pulled at her attention.  She lifted her head just enough to peek at the person through her hair.  

"Come to make some sort of snide remark, Nathaniel?" she asked, taking a moment to sit up fully and brush her hair back.

"Not at all.  May I?" he gestured to the seat beside her.  She scooted over so he could fill the empty space beside her.  "I wanted to see if you were alright. You left in quite a hurry."

"I didn't realize you had still been watching."

"Before I was sent away, my brother Thomas and I were forced to attend every court session with my father.  He never seemed to have trouble making decisions and some of those decisions I didn't agree with," he explained, looking off at their sunny, but dismal, surroundings.  "I believe you handled it well for it being your first." Cera scoffed at her fellow warden.

"I shouldn't be doing it.  I have no right to make decisions about people's lives like that.  I just wanted to conscript some of them, but I couldn't. I'm barely a good Warden-Commander.  I can't be arlessa, as well," she mumbled, dropping her face back into her hands. "You should be doing it Nathaniel."

"Me?"  He sounded appalled by her suggestion.

"Yes, you," she said, picking her head back up to look at him.  "You're a Howe. People who loved your father would respect your decisions.  Plus, you're normal."

"And the people who hated my father?"

"Still less than people hate me for being a mage, don't you think?"

"I don't know.  He wasn't a very well liked man."

"No, he was pretty terrible, actually, but you could be better."  Silence passed between them. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes.  "I told you you could work at redeeming your family name. From what I've seen and experienced of you since your Joining, I think you really can do it.  Until then, may I ask for your help?"

 

The thief cast her a wary glance, turning his head to the side as he regarded her.  "My help with...?"

 

"Court.  Things that an Arlessa should know, how to be as fair as possible, and that sort of thing.  You've been around it far more than I and I know Varel is technically helping, but I think you'd be a better asset and maybe it could help you toward your redemption," she requested.  Nathaniel's mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish gasping for air. "Please?"

 

"I- I can try, commander."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update! A little easier to get this up since it's a holiday weekend and I, surprisingly, had nothing to do but keep myself company. Figured I'd go through and get a chapter up. There may be more tomorrow or Monday. TBD.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and feel free to comment below. Any feedback would be appreciated so I can better my writing. Thanks!


	16. Figures and Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets calls out to the Wending Wood, but first, a pit stop.

"Five," Cera answered her companion's question, looking at the blond mage.  

It had been a few days since they had traveled anywhere other than Amaranthine.  Court hadn't felt any easier, but Nathaniel's help had been greatly appreciated. The research on Justice's predicament hadn't left them much to work with.  Apparently the Wardens had no books relating to the possession of corpses by non-demon spirits. As a whole, it seemed that as soon as she began to settle into a routine, the darkspawn had to start causing problems somewhere.  That was why they were on the way to the Wending Woods. Something was attacking caravans. Cera had tried to get Zevran to join, but he had other affairs to attend to back in Antiva.

The small group of companions set up camp for the evening.  They would be at the Wending Wood by noon the next day. Oghren and Nathaniel were attending the fire, while Cera and Anders settled down a little away from camp, away from the light, laying in the grass.

"I do not remember being taken from my family.  I do not remember my parents at all. What I do remember is a little boy saying 'hello' once I was taken to the dormitories.  We were friends ever since then."  

"A little boy?  Hm... Well, it wasn't me.  I was too cool hanging out with the older girls," he replied, winking down at Cera.  She rolled her eyes.

"That's because you're old," she teased.  She rolled over onto her stomach, placing her chin in her hands.  "It was Jowan. He was the first to befriend me and we were inseparable ," she shared, a sad frown tugging at her lips.  

"He's the one you helped escape, wasn't he?" Anders asked.  She nodded and that was all that was said on the subject.  

"In a way, but what about you?  We lived in the same tower, yet I know little of your origins.  Granted, it's because you're ancient in comparison but I do wonder," the commander added.  At first she thought it had been a mistake to ask until he finally answered.

"Don't heal your neighbor's cat," he replied with a sigh.    

"Is that a metaphor for something?" 

"No."  Anders paused.  The way his face twisted made Cera unsure whether he wanted to discuss it or not.  She was relieved when he spoke. "My father had me arrested."

"For?"

"For burning down the barn.  I was practicing to control my magic and it went wrong.  I was twelve. My father panicked and called the guard. The templars came, slapped me in cuffs, and hauled me off to Kinloch Hold," he stated bitterly.  "Normal children get floggings. We get imprisoned and treated like monsters."

"Twelve," Cera mused, looking off to the side.  "You really knew what it was like to live in the world before the Circle, huh?"

"I did."  He replied short and sweet.

"Maybe if I knew what it was like outside of the tower, I wouldn't have been happy, either."

"And maybe if I couldn't remember anything else, I would have been fine settling into that life," he countered.  It made sense. The grass was always greener on the other side. 

During their moment of silence, Cera's eyes caught a brief flicker of light not far from her face.  Fireflies.  

Despite the serious topic, it made her smile.  "The first time I saw a firefly I wasn't sure what to think, actually," she began speaking, her eyes following the faded shape of the insect between its glowing moments.  "They're amazing and I gawked. Alistair laughed at me and then explained what they were."

It was Anders turn to look at her.  He rolled onto his side, his arm tucked under his head.  "You loved him, didn't you?" he eventually asked.  

"Love?" she echoed.  "I really don't know.  I cared for him very much, but love?  That seems so..." There wasn't a word she could use to do her feelings justice.  "What is 'love' anyway other than a ticket to Templar torment, I mean. Have you ever-?"

"Maker, no!" he all but exclaimed.  "I haven't been in one place long enough to even grasp the concept and the Circle?  Forget about it. Fleeting moments only. Flings in dark corners. Blips of pure passion.  That's all the Circle offers, as you know."

"Then why would you ask me that question?" she asked, pushing herself back to sit up.  Her companion watched her carefully, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"You traveled together for quite some time, no?"

"Well, yes."

"And you were involved.  You told me as much."

"So?"

"So...  I think it's a valid question and I believe you're answering without saying anything at all."

"Why does it matter to you?"  The topic was quickly annoying the commander and she was ready to leave the conversation.

"I was just curious what it was like.  You know, outside of the forbidden writings of romance," he goaded, looking at her expectantly.  

Cera stared down at Anders without saying anything.  What did he want her to say anyway? It was amazing? Everything one could dream of?  Or that it hurt like nothing else when it went sour? When duties and responsibilities tore you apart?  That was if she ever felt 'love' before.

"Doesn't the very thought of it make you want to run for the hills?  Anders, the wild and free spirit?" she finally said. He laughed, waggling his finger at her.

"Maybe.  Just maybe, Cera.  It's dangerous, but I imagine thrilling."

"Keep thinking that," she said, reaching over and patting his knee.  She then stood up after retracting her hand and brushed off the back of her armor.  

"Where are you going?  We were having a moment."

The woman shook her head.  Whether he wanted a true answer or not about the subject, he was treating it like one would a tease or a joke.  Her past with Alistair was nothing to tease or joke about. It didn't matter anyway. As Commander and Arlessa of Amaranthine, Cera had enough on her plate to deal with.  She needed to focus on her job, her duties. Flitting about with a friend was the last thing she needed to do. "Good night, Anders."  


	17. A New Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wending Wood isn’t as nice as it seems.

Her eyes were heavy.  She fought to open them.  She couldn't quite remember what had happened from the moment they entered the Wending Wood to...wherever she was.  Above her was a stone ceiling and nothing else. She tried to move her hand to her head, but she couldn't. Her head rolled to the side.  Her heart began to race when she saw the leather strap holding down her wrist. Her ankles were restrained as well. Her struggles were only half strength.  Why was she so weak? A strained squeak emitted from her throat and that's when he loomed over her, a syringe in his hand.  

 

"I apologize that we had to meet like this, Warden Commander," it spoke.  A darkspawn? A half mask lay over its eyes but its mouth was pulled aside by a ring of some kind.  It brought the syringe down and she felt it pierce her arm. "But you will see that it is all necessary," the darkspawn continued.  His voice was low and he spoke well. Too well. She started feeling sleep overtake her again. "Now rest." And she did against her will.

*****

"Cera?"  The voice was far away.  The repeat of her name was closer.  Was someone touching her? It hurt. She groaned.  It hurt to open her eyes so she didn't. "Cera..."  

"Anders?" she managed to get out.  When she tried to move again, she felt him prop her up a little.  She managed to open her eyes into slits. "It hurts. Everything hurts."

"I'm sorry.  I tried to help but I'm not faring much better at the moment," he replied, smiling down at her in relief.

"What happened?  It's all fuzzy and-" Cera stopped as she finally looked around.  They were in a cell. It was a bare cell and her companions were wearing rags.  Actually, she was, too. So was an elven woman off to the side. Seeing her sparked her memory as she recalled their journey to that point.

The wardens had entered the Wending Wood and followed a path of destroyed caravans all the way to one Dalish elf.  Velanna. The elf raged at them, blaming humans for taking her sister. In revenge, she killed every human she encountered and she alone had destroyed all of those caravans.  It was carnage. However, the humans did not take her sister. It was the darkspawn as they had found out. Velanna asked to join them and Cera hesitantly allowed it. Velanna then led them to a large entrance to the mines and then...  Cera remembered seeing that articulate darkspawn. He beckoned them to sleep and they did.  

"I think it took my blood," she mumbled, trying to sit up more.  Anders helped her.

"They took a little of ours, too, but mostly you were taken away."

"How long have we been here?"

"We're not sure."

"Probably a couple of days," Nathaniel spoke up from the corner.  He was sitting down, her hands resting on his bent knees, his head leaning back against the stone wall.  He looked calm, or tired...perhaps both.

"A couple of days?"

"It's hard to tell.  We're underground. Time is completely lost.  Anders, Oghren, and I have been taken a few times.  You more frequently. We're not sure why," he explained.  Cera rolled into Ander's and reached up to place a hand on his shoulder as she sat up more.  The further she rose, the worse her head throbbed. If they had been taking her blood that could be the reason for her lack of strength.  It could also explain Anders' inability of making her feel better. He needed to save his magic for any serious injuries.

"Could you pick the lock, Nathaniel?"

"No.  I've tried, but it's rather intricate," he shook his head, disappointed with the outcome.  Cera was starting to worry, more than before. They couldn't get out, they were being used for something, and they were missing for possibly a few days.  Were the wardens going to even try to find them? Was a search party already out? Would they, too, be captured? All of the panic made her head hurt worse, followed by Velanna's shriek.

"Seranni!" their new elven companion yelled and ran across the cell to the bars.  On the other side was an elf who looked similar to Velanna, although the corruption was plain on her face.  

"Velanna, you need to leave here," Seranni reached through the bars, holding out a key.  That perked Cera up and with Anders' help she got to her feet.  

"What?  No, not without you.  If we leave, you're coming with us."

"I cannot do that, but you must leave."

"No," Velanna stated, her voice gaining the same hysterics the wardens saw back when they first met her.  

"She can't come," Cera interrupted.  "There's too much corruption in her."

"What?" the elf turned to the mage.

"You can see it on her face.  Look," Cera nodded. Velanna did and her posture changed.  

"Don't be sad, Velanna.  Go. Live." And Serani was gone, leaving them with the key.  Nathaniel stood and took it from the elf, immediately heading over to the door.

"Wait." He stopped, looking over at Cera when she spoke.  "Until we find our things, we need Anders available for his magic.  Nathaniel, please help me." He did so, handing the key to Anders as he pulled Cera's arm around his neck.  "Let's try to go quietly, okay Oghren?"

"Wha?" the dwarf grunted.  "I'm just ready to crush some darkspawn skulls."  He banged his fists together for emphasis. Anders opened the door and they walked out.

Sneaking was not their strong point.  They encountered some darkspawn. Oghren went in with fists flying, but it was Anders and Velanna's magic that helped the most.  They also found another set of keys, not that they saw many doors. One in particular stood out. Anders opened it up and the group filed in.  Cera's grip tightened on Nathanial's arm when they entered.  

The room was a laboratory of some sort.  Bookshelves lined the walls, as well as some tables holding vials of different colored liquids.  A large chest was off to the side but what stuck out the most was the long, raised stone slab in the center of the room with loose straps resting on top.  This must have been where the darkspawn had taken her and the others. Panic clutched her lungs, making it difficult for her to breathe. She wanted to get out of there.  She needed to, but Nathaniel wouldn't let her. He held her tighter until her weakened struggles stopped.

"Anders, check that chest for our things.  Oghren and Velanna, look in the lower level for anything that might be useful," Nathaniel directed and helped Cera over to the walls.  "Maybe there's something we could use," he said to her softly. She only nodded, ruefully stepping away from him and using the bookshelves and tables to steady her.

Cera reached out to touch a book resting on one of the tables, gingerly opening the cover.  The words inside were written in common tongue and were scribbled more in thoughts than cohesive prompts.  There wasn't time to go over everything but the word 'blood' stuck out to her. There was something about the elf woman letting him take her blood for his experiments.  What experiments? She grabbed the book, taking it over to Nathaniel.

"Found our things.  Let's prepare quickly before our friends realize we're gone," Anders announced as he pulled things out of the chest.  Cera frowned as her Warden armor was presented. Why didn't she just wear a mage's robe? She shook her head and, with her companion's assistance, walked over to Anders.  She took her armor and moved away to put it on. It was a struggle and it was uncomfortable compared to the rags she had previously adorned, but eventually she was dressed and had her staff to lean on.  

Other than a few more darkspawn encounters, the companions had found their way out of the mines and back into the fresh air of the Wending Wood.  They didn't stop or slow down until they were far away from the mines. By that point, they were all exhausted and didn't even bother putting up tents.  Bedrolls were laid out under the open sky. Nathaniel hunted for some small game for food, Velanna gathered wood, and Anders lit the fire. Once there was some light from the flames, Cera sat as close as she dared and pulled out the journal she found in the laboratory.  

"What do you have there?" the male mage inquired as he scooted right beside her.  

"I'm not quite sure.  It seemed important, I guess.  Thought maybe it'd give some insight as to what it was doing to us but the more I look at it, the words start blurring together..." she grumbled.  She felt Anders put his arm around her and pull her down so her head rested on his shoulder.

"We'll look at that later when we get back to Vigil's Keep.  We just need to rest."

"And keep watch.  We have to keep watch because if they come back around-" she was silenced by a soft kiss to the top of her head.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The gesture was so like Alistair but Anders smelled of rain, despite the grime of being unwashed.  She knew she didn't smell like a rose, either. "I think I have enough in me to put up some protective wards around camp."

"I can help, too.  We'll do that when Nathaniel gets back," he said.  The male mage reached over with his free hand and took the book from Cera's lap, closing it as he set it aside.  His other arm wrapped around her, encompassing her in warmth and comfort that she didn't realize she needed. She had been through the Blight.  Had fought the Archdemon on the roof of Fort Drakon. Yet that creepy darkspawn struck more fear in her than that. It was a quieter evil. That darkspawn had spoken in a way that was unsettling and its intelligence...  She wrapped her arms around Anders' waist and snuggled down into him as they waited for Nathaniel to return with food.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo! Another delayed chapter, I know. It’s a phone post, too, so please excuse any issues you may see. I will review and revise when I can. I’ll be busy moving and adjusting to a new schedule with my beau so chapter time has been scarce. Please bear with me.
> 
> Thanks!


	18. Off We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little filler chapter.

Saniel frowned at the piece of paper in front of her as she struggled to read the letter written in sloppy common tongue.  Since Cera had gone to the Warden's Keep, the elf hadn't heard anything from her. Then the letter arrived. The news inside was troubling.  She knew it was something that needed to be taken care of and that meant her leaving Denerim. Though she had lived in the city since the Blight ended, it had never truly been her home.  Her home was lost. Once, she tried to find her clan just to see them, but they were no longer in Ferelden. The Blight had chased them to who knew where and the elven Warden knew she'd never see them again.  It weighed heavy in her heart. Perhaps reuniting with Cera would at least fill the small void Zevran had taken with him when he left.  

Hopping down from her usual perch on the fence, the captain dismissed the recruits and walked back to the castle to find the King.  The guard had directed Saniel to his study where the King was pouring over a pile of documents sitting on the desk in front of him. He only looked up when the guard announced her and he waived her in with a weary smile.  

"What brings you to my prison, Saniel?" Alistair asked while he set his quill aside.

The fiery haired elf took a seat opposite of the King and slid the letter across the desk to him.  He picked it up and read it. She waited in silence, trying to read his expression. His lips tightened in a grim line.  His blue eyes hardened. His brow furrowed. He looked as worried as she felt when she had read it. Eventually, he set the letter down, passing it back to her.  She didn't give him time to speak first.  

"I will be leaving in the morning with all of the recruits."

Alistair nodded and sighed.  "I'm not surprised." He leaned back in his chair and though he was looking in her direction, his mind seemed elsewhere.  "I will come with you."

"You can't do that," she shook her head.  "This is warden business and only concerns present Grey Wardens."

"I am a Grey Warden, Saniel."

"You were a Grey Warden, King Alistair," she replied, using his title for emphasis.  "At the risk of sounding like Cera, you need to stay here. Your country needs you here.  I should also remind you that the Queen is carrying your child."

He nodded, but didn't seem happy about it.  "The Queen is also capable of handling things in my absence.  I feel that I need to see how things are in Amaranthine myself.  It is still a part of my country and the crown must maintain a positive alliance with the Grey Wardens.  We won't have a situation again like there was during the Blight."

Saniel studied Alistair for a moment.  Was he truly going to follow up on the wardens?  Or did he want to go to follow up on Cera? The mage had been quite detailed in her letter in regards to the darkspawn activity and, more importantly, her recent capture.  Saniel didn't fear many things but darkspawn were high on the list, especially since Orzammar. For a woman to be taken by darkspawn... The memory of that broodmother still haunted her.  She would rather be gutted alive.

"I disagree, but who am I to stop you?" she replied simply.  Perhaps back during the Blight Alistair would have smiled at the victory, but everything had taken its toll on both of them.  His humor wasn't what it used to be.

"That's what I was thinking," he snickered half-heartedly.  "I suppose this is the part where I try to rush through my work and then give the news to the Queen."

"I will inform the recruits.  We will leave first thing in the morning.  I want to get there as soon as we're able."

"Yes, Captain," Alistair saluted her.  Cera would have returned it. Saniel did not.

 


	19. Back to a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saniel and Alistair arrive at the Keep. Can Cera and the King be left alone together?

"Commander, the Captain has arrived," one of the new wardens relayed to Cera.  Supper had been served in the mess hall, so, naturally, that's when Saniel was going to arrive.  At least there would be plenty of food for the travelers.  

"Thank you, Jenkins," she smiled at him, excused herself from the table, and walked to the main hall.  

Varel was waiting there with the small, red-haired elf, all of the potential recruits, and…

Cera's smile faltered when she saw the royal guard.  More so when she saw the person in front of the royal guard.  He wasn't supposed to be there and suddenly she felt rather self-conscious.  They hadn't parted on good terms, not that she could blame him for that. Had he forgiven her?  She took a deep breath, put a smile on, and approached their guests.

 "Welcome to Vigil's Keep," she announced so all of the recruits could hear.  "Please, make yourselves at home. Food has been served in the mess hall and the guards will show you where it is.  For all potential recruits, we will test your skills first thing in the morning. Until then, eat, drink, and get a good night's rest."

The recruits and royal guards seemed more than happy to be led to the mess hall.  Cera was relieved for the smaller audience. It was difficult for her to not run over and hug Saniel.  Oh, how the elf would have hated that.  

"Not a bad place," Saniel spoke first, looking around the main hall. 

"It's rather nice without the darkspawn running rampant," Cera replied with a chuckle.  Varel cleared his throat. "Sorry, Varel."

"Majesty, we were not expecting your company," Seneschal Varel bowed as he spoke.  "We will have proper quarters prepared immediately and if there's anything else you will need during your stay, please let me know."

"Thank you, but that is not necessary," Alistair replied.  "I quite miss the warden living. I would like to speak with the Commander alone, actually."

"Of course, King Alistair.  We can speak in my study. Saniel-" Cera began.

"You can tell me about the darkspawn incidents later," Saniel excused herself to go find the mess hall.  That left the King and the Commander.  

Cera licked her lips nervously as she led Alistair through the Keep to her private study.  The fireplace was already roaring, highlighting the state of disarray her study was in. Books littered every vacant surface and parchment paper scattered about her desk.  Ink dribbles dotted the wooden desk from the ink bottle to the parchment. Even some spots stained the written on pages. She was never the neatest writer.  

Alistair walked in, took a seat on one side of the desk, and leaned over to pull one of the books closer to him.  Cera quickly shut the cover on his fingers and moved it away.  

"Ow," he whined, shaking out his hand.

"Sorry.  Personal business," she spoke, taking a seat across from her ex-lover.  

He was still handsome, just as she remembered, though he looked older, lines showing from the stress of the crown.  Peeking out from his armor, she could just see some of his scars. He had a lot, like her. The Blight hadn't been kind to any of them.  

"I'm sorry I didn't write," he started after clearing his throat. "A warning probably would have been appropriate, but it was a last minute decision.  The messenger wouldn't have gotten here much before us, actually. But I, uh... I wanted to see how you were doing. I mean, Saniel showed me the letter when she was telling me she was leaving and I remember how shaken up you were after everything in Orzammar and-"  He was rambling. 

"You're not still mad at me?" the mage asked him softly.  

His mouth clamped shut; his eyes widened briefly.  Then he shook his head. "No, I'm not. Honestly, I wasn't too sure until I saw you."  Alistair confessed.  

How was she supposed to take that?  Yes, it was a relief to hear him say that, but she didn't love the way her heart clenched.  Anders' questions worked their way to the front of her mind. His questions about love and how she felt about Alistair.  Why did the King even have to show up?

"How's the queen?"  She needed to change the subject.  Alistair looked surprised at the question at first, then he sighed, leaning back in the chair. 

"I suppose she's fine."

"Good.  I suppose you're getting along?"

"We're coexisting.  We're doing what's expected of us and while I've found I enjoy being king, I would much rather be here fighting the darkspawn," he said.  Maybe it hadn't been the best subject to bring up, yet she kept opening her mouth.

"Coexisting?" 

"What do expect me to say, Cera?"  Her name rolled off his tongue for the first time since he arrived.  It was unlike the last time she had heard it. The frustration had been replaced by melancholy.  

The woman cocked her head to the side and waited for more of a response.  The King seemed to get the hint and let out another heavy sigh. He rubbed his face with both hands.  Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on his knees and locked his eyes to the edge of the desk.  

"We were forced into this marriage and we are doing what is expected of us.  We put on happy faces for the people because it's expected. She says I remind her too much of Cailan.  I know that she could never hold my heart. She's too...cold. Too political. Too methodical. She rarely smiles and instead of being feisty, she's a down right bitch most days."  His eyes rose to meet Cera's. "I know what I want. I want someone who teases and laughs. Someone who is a free spirit and marches to her own beat. I want what I had before. I want y-"

Cera damned near fell out of her chair when the study door banged open.  She looked over to see who was interrupting, praying that her face hadn't turned ten shades of red from what she believed the King was going to confess.  

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" Anders asked, looking innocently between the Commander and the King.  The Commander's jaw ticked in annoyance.  

"Anders," she greeted, trying to put on a friendly face and failing.  "I was filling in the King on a few things. Is there something you needed?"

Her fellow mage smiled over at Alistair, but he was bothered.  She could tell. His smile didn't reach his eyes like they normally did.  

"Business this late?  Let the poor man eat, especially if he still has a warden's appetite.  We don't torture our guests. Plus, we're beginning a rousing game of Diamondback where Oghren is boasting about whooping our arses this time while your sullen elf friend sulks in the corner...or plots our deaths.  I'm really not sure which one it is," he trailed off.  

Cera pushed her chair back, the wooden legs screeching against the stone floor, announcing her displeasure with the interruption.  Her footsteps were steady all the way to the door where she came face to face with Anders and she smiled, not too politely. When she spoke, she kept her voice low so Alistair could not overhear them.  

"There was no real reason for you to come up here.  Was there?"

"Actually, there was,” he whispered back then held a finger up to Alistair.  “Pardon us a moment." Anders grabbed Cera's arm lightly, pulling her into the hall.  He kept his voice down more this time. "What are you doing exactly?"

"I told you what we were doing."

"And since when does talk of darkspawn make you look hot and bothered, Cera?" Anders questioned, instinctively reaching out to rub his thumb across her cheekbone.  

"I'm not-"

"Oh, you are," he chuckled.  "I've seen it on you a few times to know and while I find it very appealing, I don't believe it's something to be showing the King of Ferelden, do you?"  

She opened her mouth, then closed it.  Was she really that easy to read? No. He was making it up.  She looked just as she usually did, although her insides had felt mushy when Alistair spoke of his marriage and how unhappy he seemed...and then she remembered that she caused it all.  She forced him to enter a loveless marriage where he had duties to perform and laws to uphold. And for what? Oh, right. The betterment of Ferelden. Setting their feelings aside. Could he still have those feelings?

"I can hear you thinking, Cera.  Stop it before smoke comes out of your ears," Anders scolded, tapping on her forehead to bring her back to the present.

"I-"

"Should end your conversation and either go play Diamondback in the mess hall, or drag me to your room and have your way with me to take your mind off the  _ married _ king in the other room.  I promise I won't struggle."  His grin was genuinely lecherous.  Normally, this would have caused Cera to laugh or throw some flirty or witty comment at him, but she had nothing.  She just shook her head and looked lost. "I could be joking about that, if you want. Preferably not, if I could share my own thoughts."

"Sorry, Anders," Cera apologized, her shoulders dropping in defeat.  "Go enjoy Diamondback. I think I need to sleep."

"Alone, hopefully.  If you need me, just yell.  I'll hear you," he said.  

They looked at one another for a few moments then took his leave.  Before he disappeared around the corner, Anders cast one more glance in her direction and she watched him like a dumb Circle apprentice.  Why had he interrupted?

Cera slipped back in the office and closed the door behind her.  Alistair was no longer sitting. Instead, he was standing by the fireplace, his arm resting on the stone mantle. 

"Sorry about that,” she apologized.  “He's impossible."

"He was the apostate you conscripted when you first got here, right?"

"Yes," she confirmed, joining Alistair in front of the fire.  He turned his head to look at her.  

"He's quite taken with you.  Or just suspicious of me. It makes my templar alarms go off a bit."

"He's not," Cera shook her head.  "He was just worried. I never miss a game of Diamondback and what with the darkspawn attacks and rumors of assassination threats lurking about among the nobility-"

"The what?"  

Whoops.  The last one slipped.  

During the last noble gathering after court, one of the ladies had approached Cera and suggested that some of Rendon Howe's followers were plotting an assassination on the Warden Commander.  Only a few of the wardens knew, as well as Seneschal Varel. It was also something she had left out of her letter to Saniel.

"It's just a rumor.  His protectiveness is reminiscent of Zevran, but he's not smitten in the least bit.  Anders is a known skirt chaser, like a typical mage boy," she said, trying to brush off Alistair's comment.

"You don't feel the same?"

"And repeat my last mistake?" she scoffed.  She felt different with Anders, but didn't even want to contemplate it.  

"Mistake?" Alistair pulled back.  

"No, that wasn't what I meant.  Not you. I meant the mistake of letting feelings get in the way of duty or influence my duty or cause me to...do stuff."

"That's not making it sound much better, Cera."

"Being with you was not a mistake, Alistair.  It just hurt when I had to do what I had to do.  I don't want to hurt like that again. It sucks."  

He nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence, just looking at one another.  Then he slowly reached over to her and brushed some of her hair back from her face.  She should have stopped it, even a simple gesture like that, but she let it lead to more.  It would always lead to more with him. A simple caress turned into an embrace. An embrace became a kiss and, despite titles and status, they went back to a time when none of it mattered.  A time where they stole every moment they had together, thinking it could be their last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada!! Something a little more meaty. I believe that the Commander would keep in touch with Alistair, even if he is the King. Love doesn't fade fast...or does it?


	20. Light and Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The recruit review and Anders has Cera face her actions from the previous night.

By mid-day the next day, the potential recruits were in the yard, divided by their weapon preference.  The mages were in a group with Anders, the archers were with Nathaniel, and those who preferred blades had Oghren.  Thinking it would be better without Justice present, the Commander told him to stay inside. The trapped spirit argued with her until Anders coaxed him into obliging.  

While the skills were being tested, Cera and Saniel walked around to observe the individuals.  Saniel had more knowledge of the recruits and their talents, which she displayed by pointing out those who had excelled in Denerim and the majority that failed to impress.  There weren't that many she approved of, but the one the elf spoke most highly of was a female elven mage named Kira.

"That one reminds me of Ser Jory," Cera pointed off to a larger man with a wooden bastard sword.  His movements were hesitant. Would he try to back out and attack her if he was chosen for the Joining?  "He won't be put through the Joining."

"I was debating that myself.  I do not recall Ser Jory but something about this one unsettles me," Saniel agreed.  

"And what of him?  The brown hair and bushy beard?"

"Mikael.  He has mentioned his interest in devising strategies and has proven himself a skilled swordsman.  Alistair wanted him as part of the guard but I intervened," the elf smirked at Cera.   

Cera returned the smile and continued watching.  Saniel observed, as well, but her eyes turned from Oghren's group to Nathaniel's.  She had only met Nathaniel the previous night and they hadn’t killed it each other yet.  The elf said she found him to be a decent archer, but nothing compared to herself or Tamlen.     
"Cera, that Nathaniel," she began and the Commander immediately tensed, "his nose is crooked like a certain Howe that attempted to kill us."

"I guess the resemblance is similar," the mage shrugged.  

"That sounds like your hiding something.  His looks were less than kind last night."

"And you're just a welcoming, delicate flower," Cera rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding it.  Saniel would find out sooner or later. "He is Rendon Howe's son. This was his home at one point and he attempted to steal family heirlooms back.  He was caught, he was arrested, he was pissed, and I conscripted him out of spite. He thought I killed his father."

"Did you tell him it was me?"

"I told him it was the Hero of Ferelden.  So in a way I did but not by name. He's not a bad guy.  In fact, he didn't have a good relationship with his father, or so I've learned.  His father was disappointed in him and shipped him off to the Free Marches. Nathaniel had only just returned-"

"I do not care about his personal life, Cera.  I was just curious. I'm going to show him how to properly shoot an arrow," Saniel stated, taking her confident stride over to the group.  Cera watched in trepidation, holding her breath until she saw them interact and realized they wouldn't kill one another...yet. That was a relief.

Without her companion, the mage walked toward the magically inclined recruits to check in.  On the way, she saw Alistair standing with Varel, both of them watching what was going on. The King smiled at her, but she only looked away, ashamed of what she did the previous night.  It was a mistake. She should have listened to Anders. Instead, she had gotten sucked into Alistair's warmth and gentle caresses... Damn it.

"Don't look too lost in your thoughts, Commander.  We have some promising recruits," Anders greeted her to the group with a smile, throwing his arms out in welcome.  The mages had practiced some offensive spells on the straw dummies, leaving a few of them charred and smoking and others shattered into multiple, melting ice pieces.  Cera observed one of the potential recruits, a young male, as he ripped a dummy apart. If she wasn't mistaken, that was an entropic spell. Fascinating.

The Commander stopped beside Anders, swaying as he lightly nudged her.  She addressed the group of mages. "I'm impressed with what I'm seeing from this group.  Despite what the world may think of us, mages are valuable in combat as long as they keep their wits about them.  One thing I do want to say is that I will not tolerate blood magic. Grey Wardens have plenty to worry about when darkspawn are concerned and having to worry about demons and abominations would only be a hindrance.  Fear can make some mages do crazy things, but I have a fine line. Keep it in mind. The punishment is permanent," she finished her little speech and backed away. Anders followed her, giving her a rather strange look.  He touched her elbow, moving her a little farther from the group.  

"I thought I had read somewhere that Grey Wardens were permitted to do whatever necessary?  They did once recruit rapists and murderers, at least that's what I've read," he replied, keeping his voice low.

"You've been reading a lot, huh?" she replied.  "It's a personal preference and so long as I'm in charge, those are my rules."

"Didn’t I hear about you aiding a blood mage once?  Your good friend or something? Rumor had it-"

"Anders, stop.  That's a long story for another time."

"Okay, then how about the King?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.  Before she could stop it, the surprise flashed across her face. That strange look returned to his face, the one she didn't know what it was.  Eventually that look broke into a grin and he placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning down to be eye-level with her. "I feel like I should be offended that you didn't take me up on my offer."

"He told me he's unhappy with her...and you were right.  I guess maybe I did love him. I still might, but I don't want to anymore.  Maker, Anders, what was I thinking? He just had to look at me."

"You're a passionate woman, Cera, and you're easily wound up," he continued smirking, though she didn't find it to be a laughing matter.

"He's the _King_.  I had my chance.  I _had_ him and I gave him up.  He shouldn't have come here," she continued to ramble.  

Anders straightened up, looked at the group and deciding they were fine, took Cera's hand to lead her away.  He didn't seem to care who was looking as he found someplace away from everyone. It was a little area between the Keep and the stone walls surrounding the Keep.  When he stopped her, he leaned her back against the wall. The move had gotten her attention.  

"What are you doing?"

"Listen to me, Cera.  You're overthinking this.  I get that you care about him.  It's understandable after everything you've been through together and whatever else, but even you know you need to move on."

"I thought I was doing just fine until he showed up-"

"You're going to see one another at some point in time, what with him being the King and you the Warden Commander.  It's how you handle it that matters. No more alone time. Anything you discuss can be done with your little elven friend, right?"

"The Grey Warden Captain Saniel," she corrected him.

"Yes, her.  As for moving on, you know I could easily distract you."  He moved closer to her, still wearing that devilish smirk.  Cera put a hand on his chest and applied pressure to stop him from closing the distance.  

"Anders..." she warned.  He didn't heed it. The blond mage leaned over, resting his arm on the wall by her head.  His face moved closer and it chased away all of her thoughts of Alistair. With the walls pressing closely around them, it felt much like the Circle tower.  They were enough in the open that anyone could see them, any of the potential recruits, and it would look bad. But Cera couldn't help the rapid beating of her heart.  

"We could both use a little more fun, Cera."

"There are plenty of attractive guards and recruits to keep you occupied, I'm sure."

"Maybe I've acquired a taste for a very specific type of fun," Anders whispered, his eyes searching her own.  She could feel the gap closing between their lips. His warm breath replaced the fresh breeze of the day and then it was like the static before a thunderstorm vibrating on her lips seconds before he kissed her.  He was testing the waters before diving in and she welcomed it. A storm. That's exactly what he tasted like. It made her dizzy. And just like a storm, his hand cupping the back of her neck sent a delightful tingle down her spine.  The male mage was the one to pull back, smiling at her as he moved away.  

"Light and fun," was what he said, but did he mean it?  She couldn't think.

"Light and fun," the woman repeated.  It sounded all well and good, but a single, quick tryst in the corner was one thing and a relationship was another.  Was light and fun in the middle and how would it work? She didn't know, but Anders took her hand and led her back to the training ground, only letting go when they were just about in clear visibility of the others.  Anders went back to the mages. Cera walked over to join Saniel. 


	21. Replenishing the Troops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief after-Joining break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed last week! It got away from me with the beau and kids around most of the week. To make up for it, I'll give you two chapters!

"Well, that was heavy and depressing," Anders sighed, sitting beside Cera on the large stone fire pit ledge.  At the end of it all, they had a dozen or so recruits. Alistair had left that day with those who hadn't made the cut.  After the Joining ritual, ten lived. The new Wardens lay on the ground where they had fallen after drinking from the cup.  The Commander was waiting for them to awaken with Anders. Nathaniel paced on the far side of the room and Saniel had gone to the kitchens.  It was a personal choice to have both Anders and Nathaniel watch the Joining.

"It never gets easier.  It's worse when it's a friend."  Cera noted. Her eyes drifted over each unconscious body.  They were too heavy to lift and if they had anything like the nightmare she did, it was best for them to stay where they were.  

"So have you read anything new to help with Justice's predicament?" she asked her mage friend.  The silence was suffocating. She needed to break it so she did.

"That's what you want to talk about now?" Anders questioned.

"I was curious anyway, but now is as good a time as any.  We're just waiting," she insisted. He sighed.

"Fine.  I have nothing new to report.  The only thing I could think of to get him back in the Fade is to destroy Kristoff's body."

"But he might try possession-"

"He's not a demon," Anders interjected, clearly unhappy with her accusation.  Cera turned and placed a hand on his knee.

"I know.  He’s a spirit of virtue.  Unfortunately, he only sees in black and white.  He has made it clear that he needs to avenge Kristoff by killing darkspawn.  How far would he go to do that?" Her question gave Anders pause. That was good in her book.  So often it seemed that Anders acted on impulse and emotions, so having him think about it was positive.

"That I don't know."

"I'm concerned that his need for justice will consume him.  It happens to people, so why not a spirit of the Fade? It's not something we can have in the Wardens.  Tough choices need to be made and it's usually in a muddled gray area."

"I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thank you, Anders.  He's taken a liking to you," she smirked and gave his knee a squeeze.

A moment later Saniel walked into the hall with a tray of fresh bread loaves.  The elf must have recalled how hungry they had been upon awakening after the Joining.  It was a small kindness from the Dalish elf.  

“I've clearly been living around you  _ shems _ too long," Saniel relayed after setting the tray down near Cera.  The food even caught Nathaniel's attention. Even though the bread was for the new Wardens, Cera grabbed a loaf, broke off a piece, and offered it to Anders.  He shook his head. She ate it and ripped another piece off.

"Why do you say that?" Cera asked the captain.

"Velanna," the elf stated.  "She told me what happened in the Wending Wood.  Before the Wardens, I killed my share of trespassers and bandits, but now-"

"Why, Saniel, I believe you've gone soft."  The response to the mage's words was a chunk of bread getting tangled in Cera's raven locks. 

"Is this really the time for games?" Nathaniel snapped at them.  He walked around the bodies to the Commander and Captain, his arms tensely crossed in front of him.  In response, Cera went to picking the bread crumbs out of her hair. She sighed heavily.

"I once thought the same, Nathaniel, when I was first conscripted.  After my Joining. The first I laughed at a joke, I felt guilty. Why had I survived where Daven died?" she admitted.  "But here's the thing - we are death. It's around us, we cause it, it's in us. We are on borrowed time. If we don't smile, laugh, and love, then what do we have?  We would be no better than the darkspawn who's blood we drank," Cera spoke softly. "Those that didn't survive have already been taken to the pyre, but they are not forgotten.  We will have a ceremony tonight and it will be like any other passing."

"You cannot hang on to what's lost," Saniel then added, looking directly at Nathaniel.  

He retorted with, "They were young."

"Some of them, yes, but no younger than those who find death through starvation or bandits.  I explained to the recruits that this was a commitment and there was no backing out. They knew," Cera said.  

She had managed to get all of the bread out of her hair, or so she thought.  Anders stayed quiet on the side. "You are allowed to feel, Nathaniel. You can mourne, but you can also smile.  Enjoy the time you have. Besides, it's not like we were throwing a party or dancing the Remigold around them," she snickered.  "And now you can return to being solemn. They're waking up and need to eat before we chat about the Warden perks."

"Perks?  Is that what you're trying to sell it as?" Anders raised an eyebrow.  

"Yes, I believe my new family is a perk, considering I never had much of one before," she added, standing up so she could better tend to the new Wardens.


	22. Broodmothers Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens gain a new companion.

The echoing thud was accompanied by animalistic screams and a nauseating splat.  Down below them, four broodmothers had been pulverized into nothing but puddles and flesh puree under the heavy stone.  Broken chains jingled above their heads where the stones had once been supported. Cera draped herself over the edge, eyes closed, and breathed through her mouth to try to calm her roiling stomach.  Anders gently rubbed her back, but seemed flustered himself.

"How nice that would have been in Orzhammar," Saniel mused, finally turning away from the gruesome sight.  

They were well above the blood, though darkspawn corpses littered the grounds around them and the tunnels before them.  Aside from the Warden leaders, a female dwarf let out an uneasy chuckle as she, too, looked at the sight. The dwarf wore dark heavy armor that bore the insignia of the Legion of the Dead.  The group hadn't spoken much to her since her rescue.

A couple months had passed since the warden numbers had begun to grow again.  The darkspawn had been eerily quiet. Saniel and Cera had decided to go scout about and see if they could find the Architect or something to lead to him.  Anders insisted on coming along, just in case one of the ladies got hurt. Two travelers had rushed by them at some point, rambling about treasure and 'scary creatures' at Kal'Hirol, a Thaig tied to the deep roads.  It was their job to check it out so the trio went. Near the entrance of the Thaig is where they saw the dwarf Sigrun getting dragged away by two darkspawn. Cera shouted to her companion to stop them, but Saniel had already knocked and shot arrows straight into both of the creatures' heads.  And that was how the dwarf began tagging along. Her skills were helpful, too. It wasn't often one found a stealthy dwarf who could move almost silently in heavy armor.

"You've seen those things before?" Anders asked quietly.  The ladies had briefed him on what happened to women taken by darkspawn.  He hadn't believed it until they came across the four broodmothers.

"Much more up close and personal," Cera muttered, moving her forehead onto the stone to welcome the cold.  Between that and the rhythm of Anders' hand circling her back, she wasn't feeling as sick to her stomach.

"One would think it gets easier but, no," Sigrun chimed in, twirling one of her short black pigtails.  "I've killed countless darkspawn, but the thought of becoming that? I'll pass. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

"You might have an argument there, Sigrun.  For now, I suggest we leave," Anders said. He reached down and scooped the Commander up in his arms.  "Shall we, ladies?"

"You're loving this aren't you?  Being surrounded by women instead of a rotting corpse, the stoic man, and smelly dwarf," Cera grunted, letting her head roll into Anders' chest.  She smiled at the rumble she felt when he laughed.

"You know me so well."

"So, when we get back...well, could I join the Wardens?" the dwarf asked.  She and Saniel stayed in step together in front of Anders.

"It's a big sacrifice," the male mage called ahead.

"I've already sacrificed everything I had," Sigrun retorted.  "When you join the Legion of the Dead, we become dead."

"....You're dead?" he asked.  Sigrun shook her head.

"They hold a funeral before you leave and write your name in the memoirs in the Shaperate.  I have no family and the Legion I was here with all fell to darkspawn before you showed up," she sighed, her shoulders drooping for a moment before she straightened up again.  "So, yeah...nothing to lose. I'd be a great asset, too. I can do a bunch of stuff, aside from my darkspawn killing prowess," she boasted, poking her fingers around.  

Saniel looked over at their newest companion with a raised eyebrow.  The dwarf contained a similar humor to Anders and Cera...and a little like Zevran.  It made the elf smile. "When the commander is back on her feet, we'll discuss,” Saniel confirmed.

"Mrmph," Cera mumbled in agreement, snuggling more against Anders.  


	23. No Mage (Cera POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders' confession.

My hands were smaller.  Anders was able to curl the tips of his fingers over mine.  He'd boast, calling me 'cute' and 'tiny' and I would counter by threatening to shapeshift into a bear.  Who's hands would be bigger then? Still, those were moments I cherished, more so when we were in bed in the quiet of the night, covered by just the blankets, a fire roaring across the room.  We had indeed been keeping things 'light and fun' for months. I found a close friend and confidant in Anders, along with a stronger feeling I knew I had kept locked up.

That night had started out the same as any.  After a tiring day of training the troops, attending court, and sorting through piles of paperwork, I retreated to my quarters for a bath.  Anders would eventually join me, we would enjoy one another's company, and then we would sleep.  

It had only been a few days since Sigrun had become an official Grey Warden.  Our time in Kal'Hirol had changed something. Anders was more protective, if that were even possible.  I think it had something to do with the broodmothers.

I had finished my bath a while ago and still no Anders.  I had hope, though, so I brought some of my work to bed. Being Arlessa was no easy feat, especially when I was distracted wondering if I would have company for the evening or not.  I got my answer. The door opened up and in he walked, looking weary but still sporting that adorable smile of his, dimples and all.  

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come," I greeted him with a smile of my own.  As Anders closed the door, I climbed out of bed and walked over to the table to put the paperwork down.  

"Justice does not approve of my 'obsession' with you."  He turned to face me. He and the spirit had been spending a lot of time together.  They were good friends, but it was still a sore subject between us. Justice and I did not get along.  Most heated disagreements between Anders and I stemmed from Justice's situation. 

"Oh?"

"He believes you're a distraction," he said, walking over to me.  His long strides brought him over quickly and ran his hands up my arms when he stopped.  "It is one of the few things on which he and I disagree."

"And I appreciate that more than I can say.  Really," I reached up to kiss his chin then his lips, but he pulled away the slightest bit.  He didn't push me away, but I could tell that something was on his mind. I feared Justice got into his head about one thing or another.  Maybe it was a good thing I brought my work in. Perhaps I should have left it on the bed... 

Anders' fingers gently traced the line of my jaw, bringing my mind back to him and away from my pending work load.  His eyes followed his hand and they weren't the same.  

"Anders, is everything all right?" I asked, placing my hand over his.  

My mage took a deep breath in and out.  He still didn't look at me. "When we were at the Circle, love was only a game.  It gave the templars too much power if there was something you couldn't stand to lose."

It was amazing how fear could grip your heart and squeeze the life out of it ever so swiftly.  

"Anders?" I asked again, trying to draw his attention to my face so I could see what was going on in those eyes of his.  He was giving me a history lesson on something that I lived, too. It scared me as to why he was saying those things.

"No mages I know have ever dared fall in love."  His words were barely above a whisper, but he finally looked at me with a mixture of timidity, fear, and adoration.  His hand moved to cup my cheek as he leaned in. I was a statue, waiting with bated breath. Our eyes stayed locked. I couldn't look away.  I couldn't close my eyes.  

"This is the rule I will most cherish breaking," his lips brushed mine as he spoke, ending with a kiss that made my head dizzy.  I surrendered to it until my mind caught up and immediately pulled away.  

"...Did you just say you love me?"  The poor guy was petrified by the very question.  I waited, my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart pounding against my palm.

"Yes."  I could barely hear him, but I didn't care.  I threw my arms around his neck, crashing my lips to his.  It was his turn to pull back. "Does that mean-"

"Yes," I replied before he could finish.  A weight lifted off my shoulders and it seemed his, as well.  Anders lifted me up, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he damn near body slammed onto the bed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did steal that from DA2. When I saw that scene I thought, 'No! Anders and Cera only! Screw you, Hawke!!!!" But we'll get more to that later...


	24. The End is Nigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things were going well for a while until the wardens were alerted of an attack on Amaranthine.

_ Think!  Think! Think! _

Time was ticking away.  Court had erupted in chaos after the guard ran in, screaming about Amaranthine being under attack.  Darkspawn. The nobles screamed, soldiers hollered, and most eyes were focused right on the Commander.  Varel was telling her to take a small army to save the city. Oghren bellowed that they needed to take the fight to the darkspawn.  Nathaniel argued that it might be a trap and Vigil's Keep needed to be protected, as well. Everyone had an opinion and she couldn't think.  

Cera closed her eyes, weeding through the voices.  After months as both commander and arlessa, one thing the mage had learned was to trust her gut and to trust Nathaniel.  He had never led her astray. Not only did he redeem his family name, he had been appointed as a general. It was well deserved.  

"Everyone, quiet!" she finally yelled.  The room quieted. "Anders, Saniel, and Justice come with me.  We will take ten wardens and go to Amaranthine. Nathaniel, you're in charge here.  Secure the perimeter and keep our home and the nobles safe, okay?"

"Yes, Commander," Nathaniel gruffly agreed, bowing his head and closing a fist over his chest in salute.  He immediately jumped into action, barking out orders. Cera led her small group through the Keep to arm themselves and to gather ten of the best and bravest to join them.  

They group hurried to Amaranthine as fast as they could and what they saw when they neared was horrific.

"It's like the Blight all over again," Saniel commented.  

The scene was like a flashback.  Fire engulfed numerous buildings, people screamed, bodies and blood were everywhere, and the darkspawn ran rampant.  The two biggest differences being the lack of an Archdemon, (which she was very thankful for), and the appearance of the Children.  No, not just the little larva they had encountered in the Black Marsh. Some of the Children had grown up. They had numerous legs like little bugs.  They ran, hissed, and tackled their prey, wearing that creepy toothy grin all the way.  

Amaranthine's guard-captain approached them just outside the city gates.  His appearance concerned Cera, even as disheveled as he appeared. "Why are you out here?" the Commander barked, stomping up to the guard-captain.

"Commander, the city...it's lost," he panted with a shake of his head.

"Lost?  I still hear screams.  The city is not lost!" she yelled back in his face.  None of her companions dared hold her back.  

"It is!" he proceeded to argue.  "It's too overrun. My men are all dead."

"You've counted?  You know this?"

"No, I-"

"Get your ass back in that city and-" Cera screamed directly in his face until she was cut off by Saniel's movement and the young wardens' gasps and mutters.  The mage turned her heated glare to the noise, unexpectedly seeing a darkspawn running over to them. Saniel nocked an arrow. 

"Peace!  Do not be killing," the darkspawn called to them.  It stopped a respectful distance away, its hands in the air.  "Only talk. Architect has a message for Grey Wardens!"

"Hold, Saniel," Cera commanded.  The elf obeyed. The darkspawn activity had only begun growing again recently, but the wardens had heard nothing further from the Architect.  "What message, creature?"

"The Mother's army, it marches to Vigil's Keep.  She attacks now! The Architect, he sends me to warn you," it relayed.  So Amaranthine had been a decoy? "You need to save the Keep, then finish the Mother in her lair."  Oh, right. Because that sounded like a great plan.

"Vigil's Keep is under attack?" Saniel asked him while Cera sputtered.

"The Grey Wardens are valuable to the Architect.  The Mother, she knows this."

"Yeah, valuable because we're walking blood bags," Cera scoffed at the creature.  It didn't seem to care.

"Commander, you must return to Vigil's Keep.  At least it still stands," the guard-captain suggested.  "We need to destroy Amaranthine. Burn it and everything inside."

Cera looked back at the one who was supposed to protect Amaranthine.  He was serious about that? What appalled her more was when Saniel agreed.  

"He has a point, Cera.  We need to protect Vigil's Keep.  We need to go back. They would do the same to a room of mages or elves without a second thought."  Of course she would throw that in there.

"You can't seriously be suggesting that we blow up a whole city full of people," Anders said, appalled as the other mage felt.  Justice, too, voiced his dislike of the plan. 

"I would never allow that, Saniel, and how dare you suggest otherwise," the Commander growled, reminiscent of her bear form.  "We will not let Amaranthine fall to these vermin. Architect be damned! We  _ will _ save this city and we will destroy the Mother afterword.  I will not stand for this under my watch!"

"What of the Keep?"

"Nathaniel and Oghren would die than let it fall.  Now march or I'll feed you to the darkspawn myself," she spat and ran off to the city.  

Nobody followed her for a moment, stunned by the exchange, but when they recovered, they followed.  Even the darkspawn the Architect had sent to warn them fought along their side. It killed its brethren, even saving Saniel a few times. 

Darkspawn were everywhere.  They slaughtered mercilessly.  The children bit them. The darkspawn Cera was used to used their blades, some used magic.  Some women were dragged away. One in particular caught the mage's attention. Dalilah, Nathaniel's sister, clawed at the ground as she was being dragged.  As the Commander rushed over, she began chanting, bringing her staff to the side. Fire licked its way up to the top of the staff, engulfing it and growing.  When she was close enough, Cera let out a yell, bringing her staff forward, sending the flames right at the darkspawn. They crumpled as they burned. Delilah cried and scurried to her feet.  Cera helped her.  

"Delilah, hide.  Now. Please," she urged the woman, watching for darkspawn as Nathaniel's sister did just that.

"Saniel," Anders called out the elf as she nocked an arrow.  It was just to let her know. He threw his hand out towards her, lightning jumping from his fingers to the arrowhead as she released it.  As the arrow embedded itself in one of the children, the lightning jumped to the two around it, taking them both out as they writhed.  

The battle raged for hours.  Despite the Guard-Captain's initial claims, there were some guards still left alive at the end.  The wardens suffered two losses and there were numerous wounds to tend to. Anders set to work healing with one of the younger warden mages as the rest rounded up the survivors.  Those who were able began piling the darkspawn corpses to burn. And still, through it all, the Architect's darkspawn messenger had been with them all the way.

Cera asked around to make sure those villagers remaining had what they needed before she finally sat down, clutching at her arm.  She set down her staff, pulled over her glove, and rolled up her sleeve to see the damage. There was a deep gash from her shoulder to elbow.  There were more knicks and slices on other parts of her, but that one hurt the most.  

"Anders should come over and fix that," Saniel spoke quietly after sitting down next to her long-time companion.  Cera said nothing in response. Instead, Cera placed her hand over it and closed her eyes. Nothing happened.  

The elf frowned.  Saniel knew what she had to say.  She didn't want to but she knew. "I was out of line earlier.  You have a faith in people that I cannot find no matter how hard I look for it.  That is why you are the Grey Warden Commander and I am not. Not because I didn't want it, but because Alistair could see you were the better choice."

The mage rolled her sleeve down enough so she could put pressure on her wound.  "How are people supposed to see the good in mages if we can't see the good in others?  By the way, I didn't hear the word 'sorry' or 'apologize' come out of your mouth."

"I am sorry for suggesting we burn the  _ shems _ and darkspawn.  Happy?"

"Not particularly, but it helps.  I wonder how the Keep is holding up."

"Like you said, Cera, you left Nathaniel and Oghren there for a reason.  We have to go find the Mother," Saniel stated. Cera agreed with a nod.  

"We'll get patched up and head out.  We don't have time to rest. The messenger can lead us to the Mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite the skip, eh? Yeah, I know. We're going to be wrapping up Awakening and then heading on to DA2.


	25. Cera: In the Mother's Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the Mother's Lair where the Architect was waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cera's POV is back. I felt it was appropriate going into the end of Awakening. It's not done yet, but it's getting close.

The darkspawn brought hell and only hell.  The young wardens stayed to clean up Amaranthine.  Saniel, Anders, Justice, and myself had left Amaranthine with the Messenger leading us to the Mother's lair.  I couldn't think of anything worse than how that path we were led on looked. I've fought demons, darkspawn, and the Archdemon itself.  I've seen cities burned down and the frightening darkspawn trenches of the Deep Roads. Kal'Hirol filled with bloated broodmothers. The Mother's resting place was...  Maker, I didn't even know. Desolate? That was probably the best way to describe it. Another place resting above the damned Deep Roads. The stone walkway and walls were cracked, smoke rising up to obscure our view.  Few darkspawn guarded the path. They were easy to fall. Then the Messenger left us, running back to wherever it came from. We didn't need it anymore anyway. Not when we reached the main gates.

The gates loomed before us and all I felt was dread.  Bile rose in my throat in anticipation of what we would find.  By the empty sacks around us, I assumed the place would be crawling with the Children.  A shudder racked my spine. I never thought darkspawn could be worse than what I had seen during the Blight, yet they proved me wrong.  Good for them. Assholes.

"Why are we standing here, Commander?  The darkspawn are within and they must be defeated," Justice stated.  That was what he did. Stated the most direct path to things, even when it was stupid to do so.  So why did I bring him along? Easy. I didn't trust him at the Keep. Anders seemed to be the only one who could truly keep Justice in line.  They were friends. They trusted one another. Besides, I thought the current situation warranted his black and white thinking. There could be no gray areas.  The Mother needed to die, along with her minions. Right? Right. And yet...

"There might be another way in.  The Messenger mentioned something, did it not?" Saniel asked, looking at each of us.

"We cannot listen to one of  _ them _ .  They only bring deceit," Justice bellowed.  I rolled my eyes and stayed facing the gate.

"Justice, please keep your voice down.  I understand your eagerness to attack, but this is their realm.  We don't know how many of them there are, but there's only four of us," I replied, keeping my voice low and steady, despite the terror I was beginning to feel.  I once thought the fear and nerves would disappear the more I faced the creatures, but the opposite was true. Nobody liked being on a first name basis with a nightmare.

"We should have brought the others,” the spirit kept talking.

"No, we shouldn't have."  I tried to be more firm with the spirit, finally turning to look at him.  "It was my decision to leave them there and with good reason. While numbers can be good, I don't think they belong in this situation.  We needn't cause attention to ourselves. Smaller numbers are more favorable when attempting stealth. I do recall the Messenger saying there was a hidden passage somewhere outside the gates.  Let's try to find it." 

I began to scan the area for any hint of that passage.  There were just rocks, rocks, and more rocks. I walked over to one of the walls, running my hand along it briefly.  The stone was slimy, probably from the broken, pink, puss sacks surrounding the area. Disgusting.

I jumped when a hand touched my lower back, gasping as I spun around to see Anders’ somber face. "That's not looking for the hidden passage, Anders."

"I know, I just..." he leaned forward, resting his forehead to mine.  "I don't know how it's going to go in there. Before we get in the fray...  Cera, I-"

His reaction brought the King to mind.  Before running out to face the Archdemon, Alistair had stopped me and given me a toe curling kiss.  He never said what was on his mind, but we both knew.  

I reached up, brushing my gloved knuckles along Anders' cheek before kissing him tenderly.  I wanted to tell him to stop thinking like that, to not say anything, but it wouldn't have helped.  My kiss said it all. That I loved him. That we would get through this together.

"I found it," Saniel announced, her voice carrying across the space.  I cringed, as did she.  

We heard skittering then.  I knew what it entailed so I grabbed Anders' hand and we ran across to Saniel.  The front gate opened, the Children spewing out toward us. Saniel ducked in first.  Justice started toward the creatures, but Anders pulled him back as I began chanting.  I prayed I had enough time.  

I gripped my staff harder, letting the smooth wood calm my mind as I focused.  I could feel it start within me, rising from my core, spreading out through my veins.  As the feeling reached the top of me, I threw my head back, my vision flashing red. The final word of the spell boomed from my lips like thunder.  The darkened sky began glowing an eerie crimson, clouds forming and swirling. Anders yelled at Justice to move into the tunnel, shoving him in before he grabbed my arm and pulled me.  We had just made it inside the passage as the first fire ball struck the ground, igniting five Children. It reigned fire outside of those gates, destroying everything that was out in the open.  

Fire was usually the element I used least because everyone seemed to love it so, but desperate times called for desperate measures and an ice or lightning storm wouldn't have worked as fast as we needed it to.  However, that spell had taken a lot of energy. We didn't have time for me to relax, but I was shaking just trying to keep upright. 

Anders reached into his robe, pulled out a little blue vial, and handed it to me.  It was a lyrium potion and, Maker, was I thankful that he had some on him. 

With a shaky hand, I pulled out the cork, tipped the vial in a salute, and drank it in one gulp.  Within seconds, I felt rejuvenated. I nodded that I was ready to go and we started again. Justice led the group, Saniel brought up the rear.  It was decided that that was the best course of action in case we were attacked. Mages weren't known for their sturdiness.  

The passage must have circumvented us around the majority of the lair because it spit us out at the top of a spiral staircase.  We hurried down, encountering few darkspawn on the way. Most of those were taken down from a distance by Saniel. At the bottom, an arch presented a long bridge, scattered with damned puss sacks.  Having no better time, I walked toward it, stopping as the air moved before me. One moment, there was nothing. The next, the Architect. I stumbled back a few steps, right into Anders, who caught me before I could knock us both down.  

"And so we meet again," he spoke.  "I owe you an apology, Commander. When last we met, I intended to explain myself.  Fate, however, intervened."

"Explain?  By tying me down and experimenting on me?" I hissed incredulously at how he saw what had transpired.

"I restrained you only to prevent the misunderstanding that occurred with the rest of your order."

"A 'misunderstanding'?  Did you not attack the Grey Wardens?" Saniel asked in my stead.  It was her first time meeting the Architect, afterall. The fierce elf kept her bow ready, but down in front of her.  She seemed unsure, which was quite unlike her.

"I sent the Withered to ask for the Grey Wardens' help.  I should have anticipated that you might view our approach as an attack," the darkspawn answered.  He seemed to have a response to everything, but he was deluded. "I am rarely able to judge how your kind will react.  It was most unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?" I scoffed.  "The Grey Wardens you took were bled dry!  I saw them when you had captured us."

"The Grey Wardens that were brought to me were already dead," he emphasized his words by poking his palm with his finger.  It was strange. I had seen mothers use that gesture when explaining things to their children. "I took their blood as I took yours, because I had little choice.  Things have not gone as I planned. I only ask that you hear me out. Should you still wish to slay me afterwards, you may try."

My jaw dropped, stunned.  He wanted me to listen and if I didn't like what he had to say, we could kill him?  Just like that? Zevran had acted the same way when we met him, but I had no intention of letting a darkspawn come with us.  Still... "Fine, but speak quick."

"My kind has ever been driven to seek out the Old Gods.  This is our nature. When we find one, a Blight is begun."  I knew that. Duncan and Alistair had told me such. The Old God that was found would then become the archdemon.  "Each time we attack your surface lands and fight back until we are defeated. To break the cycle, my brethren must be freed of their compulsion.  For that, I need Grey Warden blood."

"How does that free the darkspawn?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know.  My stomach churned.

"In order to become what you are, you drink the blood of my kind.  To transform. Similarly,  _ we _ must transform.  I have created a version of your Joining that uses the blood of Grey Wardens.  You take the taint into yourself. What we take is your resistance. That is how my brethren are freed.  In your blood lies the key to their immunity against the call of the Old Gods. Our first came from Utha, a Grey Warden who came to us many years ago."

"I like my blood where it is.  In my veins," Anders said, reaching up to grip my shoulders.  

"If this will stop the Blight, isn't a bit of blood worth it?" the elf spoke.  I never expected Saniel to be so reasonable, but perhaps her reasons had to do with Tamlen’s fate.  The Blight had been the start of what killed Tamlen. No, didn't kill him, but turned him into a Shriek.  

"How do the darkspawn change afterwards?" I asked after swallowing down my nausea.  The place we were in, the thought of being tied to the table and having my blood taken from me...  It was becoming too much. Anders hands on my shoulders were the only things grounding me at that moment.  He was my strength.

"Once they are freed, the darkspawn think for themselves, they speak, they act.  Some, however, have reacted poorly. They are flawed and they rage against me. The Mother gathers them to stop me... as she seeks to stop you.  I cannot defeat the Mother alone, and I cannot free the darkspawn unless she is defeated. Our goals are the same."

"Kill this creature now, lest it make things worse than they already are.  Do what is right and do not waiver," Justice bellowed from behind. I had almost forgotten he was there since he had been so quiet up to that point.  

"But what is right?" Saniel asked.  “The Blight destroys our lands. If this would stop it-"

"And what if it makes things worse?" Anders seconded his friend's opinion.  "How would they go about getting our blood? We don't exactly have the largest numbers to start with."

"Help me kill the Mother, and after it is done, I will leave to continue my work," the Architect pleaded me.  

"What is Mother exactly?"  I needed to know before any decision was made.  I needed to know what we were dealing with.

"My most flawed creation.  Freedom drove her mad, and she has poisoned the minds of the others.  She has influence with the ones who have not been freed, and she gathers them as an army."  That wasn't good. "I do not seek to rule my brethren. I only seek to release them from their chains."

"And how did you become 'freed'?" I asked.

"I was born as I am, an outsider among my kind.  Why? I do not know," Architect stated. "Why do some of your kind become Grey Wardens?  Why do some possess magic? I have no answers."

Once again, the decision seemed to be mine.  Saniel agreed with the Architect. Justice strongly disagreed and Anders was too scared to agree.  What did I think, though? It was hard, but I tried to think of the darkspawn as not monsters but...mages.  Mages were feared. People feared mages. Mages were evil and were looked at as monsters by others. If the darkspawn had the ability to speak and rationalize, then couldn't they work in society, too?  I inwardly laughed at the very thought. That was a ridiculous notion. If anything, they would be locked up like mages. Still, to never have another Blight... And if the first blood was given voluntarily by a Warden many years ago, perhaps Utha had received her Calling?  Perhaps it was her end anyway. There were a lot of things to think about, but my gut was telling me one in particular.

"Very well.  You have an ally," I replied.  Saniel nodded. Anders immediately dropped his hands from my shoulders.

"Thank you, Commander.  I realize what a leap of faith this is for you.  I hope that I prove worthy of your trust. The Mother lies ahead.  I cannot approach her physically--her Children protect her from my power.  But when you reach her, I will do whatever I can to help you. You have my promise."  And then he disappeared.  

"What if he's wrong?  What if this doesn't help stop the Blight, but it makes something worse?" my fellow mage asked.  I wish I had an answer for him.

"A Grey Warden's job is to protect the people from darkspawn.  Wouldn't this be doing the same thing?" Saniel brought up.  

"No, this is wrong!  Those who have fallen must be avenged!" Justice said.  

"You have to trust me on this, Justice," I asked him.  He narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head.

“Your leadership is questionable, Commander.  To put many in harm's way unnecessarily is a sin,” Justice spat again.  

I clenched my jaw, tightened my hands around my staff.  “If you don’t watch what you say, I’ll send you back to the Fade myself, you demonic piece of-” I started.  Anders stepped between us.

“Enough!  This isn’t the time for arguments.  We need to push on and defeat this Mother,” he said.  I lowered my staff. Justice stepped back, as well.

"I cannot trust it, but I will follow it.  For now," the spirit warned. I sensed an underlying threat in there.  I didn't trust Justice, either. Never did, but he refused to leave Kristoff's body numerous times.  I looked forward to the day he went back to the Fade.


	26. Saniel: It's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mother leaves her mark on the group.

True to his word, when we found the Mother, the Architect showed in spirit.  He possessed magic much like a darkspawn emissary. The Mother was nothing but a loud-mouthed broodmother.  Dreadful to look at; worse to listen to. She outed the Architect for starting the last Blight. He said it was an accident.  I did not care. I had an arrow at the ready, though holding it for such a long time caused my forearms to burn.  

The fight to that moment had not been an easy one when we got closer to the Mother's lair.  The Children had swarmed us. We were all the worse for wear by the time we found her. The fight truly started when she hissed at us, her mouth splitting in four directions to reveal circular rows of jagged teeth.

The Architect used some kind of spell to subdue her for short periods of time.  Cera and Anders began casting spells and I aimed my arrow. With a tweak of my fingers, the arrow sprung from the bow right at her face.  I never missed my mark, unless a tentacle broke through the ground and stopped it, which it had. I growled, reaching into my quiver to nock another arrow.  Before I released the second arrow, I was knocked from the side by one of the Children. Using my bow, I held the creature's gaping mouth back with everything I had in me.  

"Cera!" I yelled, hoping to draw her attention.  She hadn't heard, but Anders had. Lightning bore into the creature's back, frying it.  The bolt continued from the creature’s mouth through the bow to my hands, shocking me in the process.  I dropped the weapon to prevent further damage. Damn mages.

Freed, I scrambled to my feet, shaking out my hands that proceeded to twitch from the voltage.  One, two, three...  

I scooped up my bow, reached back...and found my quiver empty.  My eyes scoured the surrounding carnage, spotting the arrow that fell before I was tackled.  I ran to it, sliding on my knees to pick it up. With the grace my Dalish blood had given me and the speed taught by the master hunter, I nocked the arrow, releasing it as I stood.  It hit its mark straight and true, driving right into the Mother's mouth and lodged itself in the back of her head. She thrashed about, her tentacles waving wildly. I was tired. I thought it was over so I turned my back.  A tentacle struck me from behind, pushing all air from my lungs, and throwing me head first into the stone wall.  

 

***

_ "It's not your time,  _ ma vhenan'ara _.  You have more to do and someone needs you more than me." _

_ "Tamlen..." I reached out toward him, his green eyes chastising me, yet he smiled.  I loved his smile. His hand reached toward mine, our fingertips brushing for a moment.  He pulled back. Where was he going? No! "Don't leave me again," I cried after him, but he was gone, swallowed into the darkness.  I was alone. I did not want to be alone. _

***

 

"We need to leave, Anders.  We can't stay here." Cera? 

"We can't move her.  Not yet. I'm fixing her as fast as I can."  Anders...  

I could hear them, but I couldn't open my eyes.  They were being held shut by some strange force of gravity.  I couldn't feel anything, either, aside from a warmth that moved around inside me.

"Can you go faster?  I can hear them. The Architect blew a hole right there for us to leave and I suggest we do so quickly,” Cera’s panicked voice frightened me.

"If we move her now, it could be worse.  Take out anything that comes in. I'm hurrying."  

One voice was missing.  Justice. Where was he? I wanted to ask.  I tried but I could not. Even crying was an impossibility when floating in...  What? What was I floating in? I didn't feel grounded but I could hear my companions.  

"Okay, Cera.  Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a short one, I know. I'm working on action scenes, but they are certainly not my forte. One more POV for this one, I think. I only wrote up to the next chapter and then I'm planning on adding at least one or two more to transition over into DA2 verse. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying and feel free to comment.


	27. Cera: It's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Mother's attack.

"Maker..." I shook my head when we entered Vigil's Keep.  If I thought my first day there looked bad, I obviously hadn't seen much.  

Large portions of the walls were knocked out, which were explained by the ogre corpses on the ground just inside.  Anders and I were carefully stepping over many bodies, both darkspawn and Warden alike. Those Wardens...the fresh young faces Saniel had brought with her...so many were dead.  

I choked on a sob.  It was hard to look like a Commander should at that moment.  I was limping, bloodied, bruised, and now the tears were streaking the grime down my face.  Beside me, Anders carried an unconscious Saniel. He, too, was rather battered. As for Justice...he hadn't made it.  The Mother had squeezed the life out of Kristoff's body then thrown it to a pack of Children. There was no longer a body for Kristoff's wife to mourn over.

I feared the worse as we entered the Keep itself, but relief won over, sending me to my knees as I sobbed.  Before us was Varel, Sigrun, Nathaniel, and Oghren. I completely lost it. The thought that I could have lost them tore me up, but I hadn’t.  They were all there, looking about as good as us, but they were there. Nathaniel called for a healer that rushed over to Anders. Anders refused to give up Saniel, but followed the healer to where the other injured were.  

"Cera." I felt arms wrap around me and hold me closer.  They weren't short and stubby arms and they didn't smell like terrible dwarven ale, so I felt confident it was Nathaniel.  Besides, the gruff texture of his voice gave him away. "Saniel?" he asked. I sniffled.

"She's got a pulse, but won't wake up," I whispered, unable to produce more sound.  He held me tighter, rocking me lightly like a child. "Delilah's okay. So is your nephew," I managed to squeeze out.  It was my turn to hear his happy cry.

 

*****

 

"You really need to get some sleep."  The words followed a kiss firmly planted on the top of my head.  Anders took a seat beside me in Saniel’s room. I had barely left her side.  

It had been two days since we killed the Mother and still nothing.  The elf's heart was beating, she was breathing, but she still wouldn't open her eyes.  So I sat there, not wanting her to be alone when she woke up. She had to wake up.

I shook her head slowly before looking over at Anders.  If he hadn't been using so much of his magic to heal people, he wouldn't have needed his sleep.  Anders himself had a few light scars and some fading bruises still, but that was from an inexperienced healer.  I had only accepted Anders' help in fixing my leg to rid the limp. That was all. I bandaged up the little cuts on my own and didn't care about the bruises.  I knew he hated seeing me like that, especially with my busted lip that reopened everytime I spoke. I knew as much because he told me so.  

"Love, you need to sleep.  I understand you want to be here for her, but your health is important, too."

"I'm her family, Anders.  I need to stay here."

"You need to take care of yourself," he repeated.

Carefully, he reached over and took my hand.  I turned to face him. Anders leaned in to place his forehead to mine as we locked eyes.  

"Someone will be with her at all times in case she wakes.  But you're awake and I need you to take care of yourself, Cera.  You're  _ my _ home," he said and kissed me gently.  If my tears hadn’t all been shed, I’m sure more would have come out.

"I love you, Anders...but I can't leave her."

"Cera..."  

I turned around to look at where the voice came from.  Saniel had her eyes open to barely slits. She licked at her lips.  If Anders hadn't intervened, I might have jumped on the cot to hug her.  However, he took the lead before I could even move and hovered his hands above her body to assess her recovery.  

"Did we kill it?" she asked.

"The Mother is very dead, Saniel," I relayed, unable to hide my ridiculously large smile.

"Seems everything has officially finished healing and there should be no complications, though you will be very stiff and weak.  It's been a couple of days. I think your room is still in tact. I can carry you if you'd like,” Anders offered.

Saniel’s movement was stiff and looked a little painful, but she held her hand up.  "What happened? I thought I heard that Justice..."

"I will tell you everything later.  First, you need to eat and rest. Anders?" I stood up, allowing him room to scoop up the petite elf.  She didn't argue, but did wince as her limbs moved and joints hinged for the first time in a few days.  

After settling our companion in her room and having a maid fetch her food and beverage, Anders led me right to our own chambers.  There had been slight damage near the window, but it was nothing that a piece of fabric couldn't hide.  

Once inside, Anders closed the door, took my hand, and led me toward the large bed.  Now that Saniel was awake, sleep tugged at every corner of my mind. He guided me to sit on the edge of the bed and began undoing the ties and buckles of my robes.  "Anders..." I whined, pushing at his hands.

"Shh...  I'm just helping you get ready for bed, love.  Relax," he coaxed. I obeyed. True to his word, Anders helped me out of her robes and into a nightdress, then tucked me into bed before undressing himself.  He slid under the blankets, pulling me against him. He wrapped an arm around me and buried his face in my hair. I don’t remember much after that as sleep claimed me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last I had of Awakening all typed up. I feel like I need at least one more chapter in here before forwarding over to DA2's world. Anders doesn't exactly sit and twiddle his thumbs during the in-between time...but nothing is coming to mind, so onto DA2 we go!


End file.
